


To Simply Be

by Ironkissedfanfics



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (past) Sexual Abuse, (past) abuse, Depression, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, It's not explicit and nothing comes of it, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Nothing like that between Cas and Dean don't worry!, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, but I thought I'd give a warning, this is seriously going to be a slow burn guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 80,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkissedfanfics/pseuds/Ironkissedfanfics
Summary: Castiel was left with nothing. Nowhere to go and no one left to turn to. He finds himself struggling to find the will and a way to keep going when he just has nothing left.Dean is now by himself for the first time when his little brother heads off to college. He had spent his whole life thus far caring for Sam and keeping him out of trouble that being alone just didn't seem right.What happens when the world brings them together?--------This fic is kind of heavy at times, but I promise the whole thing won't be this way! Please read tags if you're worried and I'll post warnings in chapters when they are needed! <3
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 44





	1. The Open Road

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! I've been really excited about this fic for awhile, but I finally got around to starting it! I haven't been the same since 15x18, and after the disappointing (now THAT'S an understatement) final two episodes, I got the motivation to start writing out of spite. This is kind of a heavy one and I won't lie, this is going to be a very slow burn, but I can't wait to see where this story takes us! I hope you guys like it! <3  
> *Trigger Warnings will always be at the end of chapter notes, so if you're unsure, please check there! If I ever miss a warning, please tell me and I'll fix it right away!*

It was dark when Castiel opened his eyes. The shimmering of dotted street lights reflected off of the puddles scattering the pavement. Cold, hard concrete did nothing to soften the ache in his bones. A soft breeze rippled over him, ruffling his hair in a way so similar to the soft touch of his mother, but distant and colder. Castiel clenched his teeth, hoping to stifle the shiver coursing through his veins. It didn’t help. He pulled his coat tighter around his torso and again tried to will the cold to leave him be. Again, it did not listen. 

Sitting up, the street lights glared at him in pity. He wished for the strength to glare back, because maybe that would help, but the bright bulbs were intense in their judgement and he couldn’t face them any more than he could face  _ them. _ Castiel’s eyes squeezed shut once more, blocking out all that he could, before he forced his legs to pull him off of the ground.

Castiel raised his fingers to his face, gingerly touching the swollen skin he was sure held a deep purple hue. Small tendrils of pain erupted underneath his fingertips and he recoiled them. With a sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket, assessing the damage it had incurred as well. The screen was shattered, but he was happy to see it still turned on. He got a feeling that tiny shards of glass would likely embed themselves into his skin if he were to make a phone call. Lucky for him that would be an extremely unlikely thing to happen. Castiel glanced around, trying in vain to get a semblance of where exactly he was. He remembered what happened, but not how he got here.  _ Did I walk? Did they leave me here?  _ Theories jumbled his mind and he figured it best to save the how for later. With a deep breath, he chose a direction and started walking.

***

Dean Winchester woke with a start. He never wakes before his alarm, but the peeking of sunlight through his worn curtains demanded his attention. He rubbed his face with vigor before throwing his covers to the side. 

Today was a big day. Dean’s little brother Sammy was officially moving into his college dorm room and Dean was supposed to drive him and his belongings to campus. The thought of leaving his brother twisted his gut and he revisited the thought of moving to the same town and finding a job there before it was quickly quelled.  _ Sammy is finally getting out of here. Finally getting what he wants.  _ He told himself. Dean wanted to believe his brother would want him to come with, but the guilt of dragging him down further weighed heavier on his mind than the possibility Sam could want him to come. So, with a physical shake of his head, he forgot the idea and made his way to the kitchen to brew himself a cup for the long drive. 

The drive would actually take over a day, so technically, his brother moves in tomorrow, but the nerves in his stomach didn’t know the difference. Dean placed a mug in the spot under the brewer and added his grounds and water into the top. The tiny old single-cup brewer groaned to life at the press of the bright orange button and Dean released a long held sigh as the smell of coffee began to permeate through the house.

Dean let his eyes roam over the small kitchen. The scuffed table sat unceremoniously in the middle of the room. The two chairs left on either side would creak if they were to sit in them, but they wouldn’t be doing that today. Or anytime soon for that matter. The dingy overhead light occasionally flickered, giving him a well needed reminder to replace it when he returns. The countertops were cracked and chipped, but had been kept surprisingly clean. The itch to remodel the place had been incessant lately, but until his little brother was secure, any extra funds he pulled from the garage wouldn’t be used for renovations. He hoped that after his brother was finished he would return to Lawrence and maybe want to help him with it, but if there was one thing he knew, it was his brother, and he would like nothing more than to never return to their small hometown.

Lawrence held too much horror still. Unfortunately, the pressure of this place was a familiar weight, one he had known since he could retain memories in fact, pressed on his shoulders. He wouldn’t know who he’d be without it and honestly, he would be too afraid to find out. Dean was happy to hold the weight, though. Any bit added onto him was another bit not on his brother. Dean had done everything he could at every turn throughout their lives to keep his brother on the right track- the track out of here, the track to a good, happy, well-deserved life. A white picket fence kind of life. A wife and kids kind of life. A life so distant from the things Dean had been sure to keep far away from his little brother. This was why Dean was still happy to see Sam go. It hurt like Hell but this was the biggest step Sammy could take towards the good life, and Dean would be  _ damned _ if he would do anything to jeopardize that.

The coffee maker spurted and bubbled, signaling the end of its brewing journey. Heavy hands pulled the cup from the stream as the last drop fell from the spout. He poured the tiniest splash of milk into the steaming cup and stirred. The spoon clinked into the empty sink and slid toward the drain, stopping just before the handle teetered into the opening. Dean huffed a small laugh and brought the still too hot drink to his lips, allowing the burn to make its way down his throat. It didn’t hold a candle to whiskey, but that would have to wait until he made it back home. He placed another mug under the stream and went through a second round of prepping the machine. 

Warm mug in hand, his bare feet shuffled their way to Sam’s bedroom door. He let ring a loud knock onto the wood, silently praising the boards for not splintering under his knuckles. He heard muffled noise from inside before a long groan. 

“Just five more minutes, Dean, please!” Sam called, no doubt still wrapped tightly in the spare sheets. His own had been packed away already, resting in one of the various boxes filling up Dean’s car.

“Suit yourself, Sammy. I’m going to shower before we head out. Got coffee in the kitchen when you’re ready.” Dean struggled to keep his tone even. His throat was dry all of a sudden, so he took a long drink before walking the rest of the way to the bathroom without waiting for a response from his brother.

Stepping from wood to tile, Dean shut the bathroom door behind him. He latched it and drank down the rest of his coffee before he stripped off his clothes. He kept his eyes away from the mirror, knowing too well what he would see. The empty cup was abandoned on the counter as he turned on the water in the shower. Not bothering to let it heat up first, he stepped under the chilly stream. It pounded over his chest and he let his eyes close. Images he wished would just leave him alone flashed anyway and he shook his head again.  _ One more day not to hide it. Once Sam is far enough away, I don’t have to put on a smile 24/7. Just this trip.  _ Dean chided himself for being happy over any aspect of his brother’s departure, but the prospect of not having to keep up his facade at home anymore was a little too enticing. He had done this for so long, crinkles had begun to form by his eyes from all his forced smiles. It was worth it, being happy in front of his brother, but it was exhausting. After protecting him for 23 years, it would be nice to let the wall crumble for once.

The water never warmed up and Dean made another note to look into that when he got back home. He washed quickly and turned off the water. Once there was quiet in the room, he was able to hear the loud footsteps of his brother in the other room. He toweled off and slipped back into the jeans on the floor before walking to his room to grab a shirt. 

“Ah, Dean! Have you seen my wallet? I know I wouldn’t have packed something like that away but I’m not sure at this point.” Sam said it with a laugh in his voice. Dean could tell he was nervous, but it was a good kind of nervous.

“Have you checked the pockets of your jacket by the door?” Dean said, inflicting a smile of his own into his words, even if it wasn’t genuine. He knew his brother better than he knew himself so he knew he was right about the wallet’s location as Sam walked quickly to the front door where his jacket hung from a nail in the wall. He watched as his brother rummaged through the pockets, letting a real smile grace his lips when Sam’s face turned relieved. Sam held up the wallet in victory with a grin and thanked his older brother for the help.

“We leave in twenty, okay Sammy? I know it’s early, but it’s a long drive and I want to get as far as we can before it gets dark.” Dean let his eyes scan over the nearby clock that displayed the time to be 8:13 A.M. Sam groaned in response but nodded all the same, rushing away into the bathroom no doubtably to sneak in a quick shower of his own.

No more than thirty minutes later, Sam was all packed up and sliding into the passenger seat of the Impala. Creaky doors shut and Dean watched as Sam’s grin faltered.

“What?” Dean asked, worried Sam left something inside  _ again  _ after the last two trips back inside turned up no forgotten belongings.

“Nothing, just… should we stop and see Dad? I feel like I should at least try to say goodbye.” Sam tilted his head away from his brother, eyes mulling over the grass of the lawn.

“You don’t owe him anything, Sammy.” Dean said sternly and started up Baby’s engine. “If he wanted to make things right by you, he would. It’s not your fault and it’s not your responsibility to make amends.” He felt the purr of the engine underneath his fingertips that graced the wheel. He willed his stomach to stop flipping again. He wished for once he could stop having to clean up after everyone else.

“Yeah, it’s just… I’ll be gone for awhile. Feels like I should say something.” Sam trailed off, his hand now resting under his chin.

Dean turned slightly towards his brother. “He knows how to use a phone. When he wants to talk, he’ll talk. No point dampening the mood when you’re about to go on a road trip with your favorite big brother!” He flashed Sam one of his bigger smiles, the ones saved for lightening the mood. The one his mother used to tell all her friends about when she was still around.

“You’re my only big brother, Dean.” Sam replied, a bit of a smile in his voice. He turned toward Dean and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get going already; I’m dying to see California!” The smile was brighter now, fully reaching his eyes. Dean allowed himself to smile for real this time as he pulled the car out of the driveway and onto the road. The pavement crunched under the roll of the tires and Dean leaned his arm out the window. If there was one good thing about sending his brother off to college, it was that Dean was going to have a lot of time on the open road. Fresh air whipped into the vehicle as they made their way out of Lawrence, its warm current grazing over his hair and brushing against his cheeks.  _ At least I’ll always have the road. Even when there’s no destinations left, I’ll always have the road.  _

***

Broken concrete and crumbles of glass crunched under Castiel’s shoes. Early morning sun reflected off of the broken bottles littering the ground. His feet ached. The sun did nothing to warm the early September air yet, but he knew it would warm up quickly. The night was long and it had taken him far too much of it to figure out where he was. After spending some time orienting himself, he realized he was somewhere on the outskirts of his hometown of Pontiac, Illinois. It shouldn’t have taken so long to walk home-  _ what was my home _ \- but his head ached so bad he had to sit down on multiple occasions. He hadn’t known why exactly he thought it was a good idea to come crawling back, but with the large two-storey building standing off in front of him, he only thought of his car parked out front. He couldn’t go inside and grab any of his belongings, he knew that much. He was daring too much to even get this close, he knew it. 

Castiel thought of his many books, likely scattered across his bedroom at the moment, and sighed. All his favorites would have to be left behind. He looked down at his clothes, thankful he was wearing his beloved trench coat during yesterday’s events. Castiel glanced up at what he knew to be his window and wasn’t surprised to see movement inside.  _ Going through my things already.  _ At least he knew they would always retain their swift handling of priorities. 

Castiel stepped lightly towards his car, hoping not to be seen on the cameras he knew faced the front yard. If he was lucky, they wouldn’t be watching them, and if he was even luckier, they wouldn’t hear the turn of the engine in time for him to peel out of the driveway. Steeling himself, Castiel walked briskly over to his vehicle and thanked the Heavens his keys had been accompanying his phone and wallet in his pockets. He unlocked the door and opened it in the same motion, settling inside and letting his eyes quickly scan over the seats. Without his keys, they hadn’t been able to ransack his car yet, though he was not uncertain they wouldn’t have just busted a window at some point. His eyes caught on a pack he had tossed in the backseat the other day and again thanked the Heavens he was supposed to have stayed with his friend Balthazar last night. He was probably worried about him, but his attentions were always elsewhere and he was not convinced he even realized he never showed up. Either way, the unattended plans left Castiel with an overnight bag packed and resting forgotten in the backseat. 

Adjusting the mirrors, Castiel caught a glimpse of himself. He shuddered at the sight and turned it away immediately. His by-touch assessment hadn’t been able to produce a proper image of the damage done, but having seen it, he wished he wouldn’t have ever looked. His eye was blackened and there were stripes of dried blood peppering his features. Lip swollen and cracked, bruises dotted down to his collarbone and no doubt lower. He must have been a sight to see through the windows of any passers-by as he had walked his way home. 

Wetting his lips with his tongue, Castiel stole one more quick glance up at the house before turning over the engine and putting the car in drive. As he peeled out onto the road, his eyes shifted to the rearview mirror in time to see the front door opening. He didn’t care to see who stepped out and ripped away as fast as he could. With no destination in mind, Castiel pulled onto the highway as soon as he reached it. He had never been much of a fan of driving on the interstate, but it was the fastest and best route out of here, so he swallowed any qualms he had and gripped the wheel tighter. Silence staled the inside of the car as the sun finally started to warm up the day. 

Everything hurt, but the open road offered a listening ear as Castiel felt himself begin to cry. The tears fell as soon as they formed, rimming his eyes red and blurring his vision. The silence was broken by the sound of his fragmented sobs. Within minutes he decided to pull off to the side of the road. The tires slowed to a halt and he put the car in park before resting his head in his hands. Now away from his home, even just by a few short miles, the overwhelming pain wracked his system. His hands shook against his face, tears cascading from his palms down his arms. The long sleeves he was wearing undoubtedly soaked them up but he couldn’t care.

His mouth was dry and his voice was raspy by the time his tears slowed. Castiel lifted his head from his hands and sniffled, wiping his wet palms on his pants so he could have a better grip on the wheel. He hadn’t been able to come to any conclusions in the time he sat along the side of the road, so the most he could think to do was find a hotel until he figured it out. It didn’t promote quick problem solving, but Castiel’s current problem was not one that was able to be solved quickly. He pulled out his disaster of a phone again and searched for hotels in places a few towns over. Though he was out, he would like to put a little more distance between himself and Pontiac if he was going to be comfortable enough to get any bit of sleep. After finding a suitable place, he swiped the back of his hand across his nose and tried not to wince in pain as he pulled off of the shoulder and back onto the road.

No more tears fell during the remainder of the drive to his hotel. By the time he pulled up, it was after noon and he was hoping that the place was able to check him in a bit early. Castiel looked at himself in the mirror again, cringing at the sight before dragging himself from the safety of his vehicle. He threw the bag over his shoulder and locked the door behind him. He tried not to look anyone in the eyes as he walked through the sliding doors and into the lobby of the hotel. Though his eyes were averted, his ears picked up a soft gasp from the direction of the front desk. 

Arriving at the counter, Castiel willed his eyes to meet that of the receptionist; her face varying through shades of fear and pity. Before the small woman even had a chance to get out her words of greeting she was likely obligated to say, Castiel cleared his throat.

“I, uh… I do not have a reservation but I was hoping you had a room available for the next few days.” The voice that escaped his throat didn’t sound like his own, grittier than his normally polite and proper tone. He had tried to still sound professional despite his appearance, but even his voice couldn’t manage the request. His lips were dry so he wet them with his tongue.

After a few beats of silence, the woman at the desk- her name tag said Collette, an odd name- smiled warmly at him. Castiel could still see the pity in her eyes, but at least her training in hospitality was finally returning to her.

“We do!” She started, her tone matching the easy warmth of her smile, “As a matter of fact, we’re pretty empty until the weekend, so is there any room you would prefer?”

Castiel let slip a small laugh. “No, thank you, just the cheapest thing you’ve got.” She nodded in response and typed a few things into the computer in front of her. 

“Any guess on how many days, sir?” She didn’t look from her screen this time.

“At least until the weekend. So, the next five days, I suppose. Thank you.” She nodded again, her soft smile still gracing her lips as her fingers flurry over the keys.

“Last thing here, sir, then we can get you settled. May I see your ID?” 

When he removed it from his wallet and handed it over, he grimaced at the old photo of himself. He was a little younger in it, but more importantly, he had been happy then. You could see it around his eyes mostly, but his current state of being emphasized his downfall as of late. He inwardly hoped Collette wouldn't comment on it.

“And is this address up to date?” The question felt more like a blow to the stomach than like a routine inquiry. Up until last night, the answer would have been yes. Now though, there was no way that could be considered home. He supposed she didn’t need to know that though.

“Yes.” was all Castiel offered in response. She continued typing for a moment then quickly handed the card back to him. He shoved it away and buried the wallet in the safety of his pocket once more.

“Okay, you’re all set! Here’s your room key. If you have any issues or questions, just dial zero on the phone in your room. There should be someone at the front desk 24/7 to assist you. Enjoy your stay!” She finished her mantra with a grin, one that should seem insincere due to the corporate dialogue it accompanied, but she managed to make it seem caring and Castiel found he appreciated it.

He thanked her again as he swiped the keys from the counter and made his way out of the common space. As they jingled in his fist, he wondered when all these highway-side hotels would upgrade to keycards. He turned the key in his door and stepped inside. The door fell shut with a  _ click!  _ behind him and he took in the room. One small queen sized bed sat in the middle, the covers tacky overtop. Two bedside tables sar on either side and he went through the motions of checking for a Bible. A low chuckle surfaced as he wondered what his fate was to run into perhaps the only hotel in the Midwest that did not have one tucked away by the bed. He was sure his parents would have gone up to the desk to ask for one, maybe even taken it as a bad omen and enough motive to find a different hotel, but the book didn’t bring him comfort like it used to so its absence wasn’t missed.

There was a small bathroom attached to the bedroom so with a deep breath, Castiel walked in and prepared to fully assess the damage done. He flicked on the light and it flashed twice before committing to lighting the room. He winced, the flashes feeling like an assault. When he let his arm fall away from his eyes, he finally saw just how destroyed he was.

His deep blue eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, one of which was plastered in deep purple and blue hues. The blood on his cheeks and lips had long since crusted over and stuck over his wounds like tape. He let his coat fall to the floor before he managed to struggle his way out of his shirt. Now half-naked, the bruises kissing his torso were all too much. They were peppered everywhere, from collarbone to hip. Different shades illustrated the varying intensities of the blows he received, and the one on his ribcage was the brightest. Castiel brushed his fingers over that one and jumped at the pain that welled from it. This one was bone-deep and if his ribs weren’t bruised it was possible they were broken. All the hurt was more than skin deep, though. He had now lost everyone. What was there to do now?

With a sigh, Castiel put his shirt back on, left the bathroom, and took a seat at the foot of the bed. Within moments he fell back, legs still dangling over the edge but back flush against the mattress, eyes glazed over as he lost track of time just staring at the chipping ceiling, What was there to do now?

Time passed quickly, yet it felt as though he had laid there for days. He didn’t notice as the sun began to set from the sky. Without the lights on, the room slowly became enveloped in darkness. The room felt tight and stale, way too small. When he finally tilted his head towards the window, there was nothing but stars above the parking lot. No clouds hindered the sight of the heavens and tears pricked the back of his eyes. Blinking them away, he checked his phone. There were plenty of messages there, but none he had the energy to read. The clock in the corner read 8:00 P.M. when he realized he hadn't eaten. Castiel tried to remember when his last meal was or even what he ate, but his head was aching again and he couldn’t seem to pinpoint when it was. It must have been before yesterday’s events, but when? His stomach felt empty, but even if he had food in his hotel room, there was no way he would be able to bring himself to eat. What was there to do now?

Castiel stared out the window, watching the stars from the safety of the cheap mattress, hoping to see a sign. He didn’t realize he was talking out loud when the words came to him.

“How does anyone know how to live? When to give it all up?” He asked the stars. He waited; they didn’t answer. “Where am I supposed to go?” He questioned further, needing someone to just tell him anything, anything at all so he doesn’t give in. Again, the stars were silent. They offered no words of wisdom or guidance. The itch in the back of his brain was incessant; it all felt so dark- too dark. The pit in his chest extended into his stomach. Never had Castiel felt this sort of Empty. He turned away from the stars; the Heavens were clearly no longer listening to him. His whole back shook as he fought the tears once more. Hands fisted the sheets. 

“What is there to do now?” The empty air swallowed his words before it took him too.

***

The open road was nothing but comfort. Dean’s hands comfortably gripped the wheel as Zeppelin blasted out of their open windows. Every time he looked over his brother was smiling, moving, and singing along with tape in the dash. It made Dean smile too. He knew he would miss Sam, but every second they sped along the open road, he came closer and closer to being at peace with his brother’s departure. This was good for him.  _ It’ll be good for me too.  _ His grin didn’t leave his lips as he joined his brother in singing along.

They drove until well after the sun set, having watched the sun rise and fall out of the front windshield of the Impala. They took turns at the wheel, only having stopped a few times for bathroom breaks and food. But now it was dark, the headlights of the vehicle illuminating as much of their path as they can between the thinning streetlights. Dean blinked slowly before deciding it time to call it a night and get his four hours.

“Thinking it’s time we pull into a motel, Sammy. My eyes can’t take anymore of this tonight.” His little brother nodded, eyes barely open himself. Dean pulled off the next exit and made his way to the closest motel he could find off the highway. Sleepy-eyed, the boys got checked in and barely reached their beds before passing out. Dean’s dreams were a continuation of their day, the interstate leading him and his brother far away from the troubles of their past. Perpetual lines passed by the tires of the Impala, seemingly counting away the seconds they had left. He leaned forward in his seat to get a good look at the sky through the dirty glass of the windshield. The sun shined brighter in his dreams, but he couldn’t feel its warmth. 

When Dean came to in the morning, he heard the muffled sound of Sam stumbling around in the bathroom. With a groan, he pulled himself off the creaky bed and stretched out. The drive had been long enough already so his body ached, but they got over half of the drive done in the one day, so if they got a move on, they could get Sammy to his dorm before the sun sets again. 

Dean took his turn in the bathroom after his brother vacated it and within the next thirty minutes they were fueled up, fed, and back on the road. They passed the time playing silly highway games they used to when they were kids and munching on the snacks stowed away in the backseat. Over the course of the day, they made a few pit stops to refuel and snag some burgers. They traded off driving at each stop, a luxury Dean refuses to take for granted knowing he would have to make this whole drive again himself. Just as the sun started threatening to retreat from the sky, the brothers pulled off of the highway and towards Stanford. 

The campus was still packed, cars crowding the streets and families grouped on the sidewalks. Move-in day was a big event for parents and Dean silently wished Sam could have the same experience all these other families got. Instead he just had Dean, so he was going to make the most of it. They pulled into an open spot after a considerable amount of time was spent searching for an opening near Sam’s building. Sam stepped out and took a good look around, breathing in the warm September air that had settled all around them. Trees surrounded the walkways and it all felt so new and welcoming. Any anxiety Sam had was now being replaced with sheer excitement.

“Dean! Let’s go find my room!” Sam quickly dragged his brother inside, barely giving him time to lock the doors, and they went through the ropes to get Sam ready to move in. Thankfully, everything was fairly streamlined and they seemed to be some of the last stragglers of the day, so it wasn’t long before the brothers were taking boxes up in rounds. There wasn’t too much to bring considering how small the dorm room was, but soon Dean was helping Sam unpack and decorate. Sam had been hoping his roommate would show up before they finished, but by the time they were done the sun was gone and the other half of the room was still empty. He looked at the other bed with a frown.

“Wanna just stay here tonight? We can see if there’s a pizza place that will deliver on campus? It doesn’t look like my roommate will be here today so there isn’t much of a point in you paying for a hotel.” Sam offered. Dean rolled the idea over in his head for a moment.

“Is that allowed?” He finally came up with.

“Probably not, but it’s move-in day so I don’t think they’re going to patrol the halls looking for stowaways, you know?” Sam added a cheeky grin in an attempt to seal the deal. Dean held his look for a moment before rolling his eyes and conceding to his younger brother’s request. 

“Alright. If it means I save some cash, I guess I’ll crash in this tiny bed.” He answered with a smirk. As much as Dean would have enjoyed the larger bed he knew was stationed in many hotel rooms, he couldn’t help but be glad he had a sliver more time with Sam. 

“Sweet.” Sam said back. The brothers spent the night eating pizza from a nearby restaurant and watching some crappy show on Sam’s laptop. It was called  _ Not Natural _ and honestly, it was the saddest excuse for a ghost show if ever he saw one.  _ I mean, random corporate people taking down ghosts at work? How is that entertaining?  _ As the night wore on, Dean’s chest started to feel heavier again, the familiar weight settling in the same way he was now settled into the bed on the other side of the room from Sam. He pulled the borrowed comforter over his shoulders and sunk into the mattress. After a long struggle to achieve sleep, the soft sound of his brother’s relaxed breathing finally succeeded in lulling him into unconsciousness.

This time his dreams were not as bright. The weight in his chest remained constant as he drove the empty road. The passenger seat was vacant and the music wouldn’t play from the speakers. He fiddled with the knobs but nothing came through to ease the silence. He could hear his own breathing now and it was rough and ragged. He felt winded and his grip on the wheel was rigid. His whole body was taut and tense, as if he was simply waiting for something to happen. His foot stayed heavy on the gas pedal, anticipation of  _ something _ adding to its pressure. Something moved off the side of the road, immense and dark, lingering barely on his peripherals. With a catch in his breath, he slammed on his breaks and-

Awoke to the chirping of birds, songs loudly chiming in through the open window of Sam’s dorm room. Dean was sweating, but thankfully not enough to soak the mattress. He swallowed hard, swiping his tongue over his mouth after to soothe both his dry throat and chapped lips. He glanced over at his brother who was still asleep and smiled to himself. Sam fit here. The early morning sun was just beginning to stream in through the windows and the small room had already felt so homey now that Sam had gotten settled. 

Dean got up and stretched, padding over to the glass to take a look out onto the campus below. There were already a few people stirring about down there and the prospect of traffic made him groan. Immediately, he heard his brother shifting on his bed, so he turned around.

“Morning, Sammy. Think we should go grab some breakfast before I head out.” Dean desperately wanted to stay another day; help his brother get groceries and get fully settled while he waited to meet his roommate. Unfortunately, he was only able to get the four days off, and if he didn’t start heading back soon, there was no way he was going to wake up on time for his Saturday shift.

Sam sat up, his shaggy hair sticking out wildly from his head. “Oh yeah. I forgot you’re leaving.” He trailed off, pulling himself out from under the covers and stretching out all his limbs. He sounded sad, his eyes not meeting Dean’s.

“Yeah, sorry, Sammy. If I could stay longer, I would, but you know Bobby needs me this weekend and it was a long drive.” At that, Sam nodded and walked over to his mirror to smooth down his hair. If they had been in a hotel, Dean might have showered first, but having stayed in the dorms, there was no way he was using the bathrooms on the floor. He’d wait until he got stopped somewhere tonight for that. Sam looked for a place for breakfast and they headed back out to the Impala.

They drove in quiet as he followed the directions coming from the speaker of Sam’s phone. It was a short trip and about ten minutes after leaving the dorms they were being seated inside the restaurant. They still hadn’t said much by the time the waitress came around to take their order.

Dean ordered a large breakfast, complete with eggs, bacon, and pancakes with a coffee and Sam ordered something that was basically just a whole lot of fruit. Dean had scoffed playfully when Sam had chosen his breakfast and that had earned him a swift kick to his shin under the table. They were smiling again by the time the food made its way to the table.

“So, Sammy, you excited?” Dean asked between bites of syrup-soaked pancake.

“Yeah, actually. I know it’s going to be tough here, but I’m really hoping this will be as fun as it will be educational, you know?” Sam chuckled. “I will miss you though. You know you’re welcome to come this way whenever you want, right? And I’ll come home for the holidays, too.” Sam was trying to reassure him, the softness in his voice tender and soothing.

Dean huffed a small laugh and quirked up the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I know that Sammy. I’m gonna miss you too. But you’re going to knock this whole college thing out of the park; this’ll be good for you.” Sam simply nodded in response and they finished their breakfast through small talk about the town and theories on what kind of roommate Sam would get. Sam, of course, was hoping for someone with a good routine who he would be able to have quiet study time with, but Dean had bets Sam would get a loud, party type. They shook on that $20 bet before getting up to pay the bill. 

The silence of the drive back to Sam’s dorm was a little less oppressing this time and Dean welcomed just being next to his brother for a little while longer. When they parked back in the same open spot they had managed to snag the day before, both brothers stepped out of the car. The engine was still running as the car doors swung shut. Sam had started to walk towards the building before he realized his brother wouldn’t be coming and he stopped. He turned around to see Dean leaning against the driver’s side door, a proud smile on his lips. Tears threatened Sam’s eyes and he walked quickly back over to his brother to pull him in for a hug. They didn’t have to say anything during it; they both knew how proud Dean was of Sam and they both knew how much they would miss the other, so there wasn’t much that really needed said. Dean patted his hands on Sam’s back before they pulled away from the embrace.

“Call me if you need anything, Sammy. You know I’ll be here as fast as I can if there’s any trouble, alright?” Dean’s voice was stern, but there was that distinct warmth Sam always felt underneath his words. Sam nodded with a soft smile and patted Dean’s shoulder.

“You know I will.” Sam replied. “See you later, Dean.”

“Later, Sammy.” Dean finished as he watched his little brother walk away from him and towards that better future. A smile rested content on his mouth and he chose to ignore how dry his throat felt as he crawled back into the driver’s seat.

“Well, Baby, looks like it’s just you and me now.” Dean said in a low voice. He smacked the dash of the car before putting it in reverse and speeding off towards the sunrise. 


	2. Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel deals with some things and Dean gets a surprise at work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Second chapter is here! I actually just finished writing chapter 4 last night, but I am committed to sticking to thins posting schedule this time around! Once all my finals are over and I have more time to write, I might post 2 a week instead of just 1, but we'll see! Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read my little fic! I love you all!  
> *TWs at the end of chapter notes! Please read them if you're concerned and take care of yourselves first!*

The too-small hotel room had begun to get stuffy lately. Days had passed since Castiel checked in and he had done little else besides lay motionless on the bed, watching the sun rise and fall based on the shadow line gliding across the ceiling. All he had managed to eat over the last four days had been small things that he purchased with change at the vending machine in the hotel lobby. He wouldn’t have to worry about money for a little bit considering he would still receive his final paycheck despite not showing back up to work. But even with about one month’s worth of money in his bank, he couldn’t convince himself buying real food was worth it since he still didn’t have a plan yet.

The clock at the bedside ticked loudly. It had gotten louder lately. Endless  _ ticks  _ felt like they were clawing at his brain until he got up and swiped it off the tabletop, flinging it across the room. His lips had turned up in a snarl during the motion, heat welling up in his chest for a brief moment before dissipating. He sat back down again, feet firmly connected to the floor in a feeble attempt to feel somewhat grounded. Castiel just couldn’t manage anger. Moments when he had felt it in the past were white hot but always remained brief. No matter what, he was never able to hold that anger, even if he had every right to. The clock laid unmoving on the floor, the ticking had finally stopped. 

_ Does time run out? How do I know if my time is running out? Should I let it? What is there to do now?  _ The same questions he had been asking himself since he checked in still whirred through his brain. He had no way of answering them himself and no one else was around to answer them either. His head still ached. He knew he should have showered right when he got in. He should have cleaned up his wounds and put ice on his eye but he just hadn’t been able to bring himself to care. It was a miracle he had eaten anything at all. 

Now that he was sitting up, his eyes drifted toward the bathroom and an overwhelming need to feel clean surged through him. After everything he just felt so  _ dirty.  _ So  _ used. _ So  _ broken. _ If the only other thing he could do was finally make himself feel clean again, maybe some of the heaviness in his chest would lighten up. Maybe his limbs wouldn’t feel so numb. Maybe his headache would finally go away. Castiel forced himself to his feet, arms hanging loosely by his side as if they weren’t as committed as his legs to the idea just yet. By the time he needed them to turn on the water, they were slightly more convinced. Hands felt like lead as they twisted the knobs in the shower. The water spurted before it started into a steady stream. Unlike with the light, this time he didn’t jump. Steam filled the bathroom and fogged up the mirror before Castiel was finally able to disrobe.

Thankful for the obstruction to his view, he carefully peeled off his clothing, having to pull harder than he’d like when things got caught. After a short struggle, he gingerly stepped underneath the hot, aggressive beating of the water. The hurt seeped into his bruises and stung his face. The stream felt angry, putting heavy pressure on all his weak spots again and again. As much as it hurt though, feeling  _ anything  _ after days of pure nothing was good. It hurt but the pain was welcomed. His eyes watered at the sting but it brought a little warmth back into his chest. Not much, but enough. 

Castiel leaned down and grabbed the tiny wrapped bar of soap that had been teetering on the edge of the tub. Wet fingers struggled to peel away the wrapper, but he was victorious in his efforts and tossed the paper in the small trash bin that sat beside the toilet. He let the water run over the bar first, then flipped it over a few times in his hands to start the suds formation. The bar got swiped languidly over his torso and Castiel focused on the tiny bursts of pain that came from contact with the bruises. It felt like tiny fires under his skin and his vision almost went white when he accidentally pressed too hard on his ribcage. A sharp intake of breath cut through him and his arm shot out for something to steady him. It grasped onto a small bar and he gripped with such force his knuckles shaded white. After a moment of labored breathing, Castiel was able to straighten up once again. He put that pain to the back of his mind and continued his exhausting task of getting cleaned up. The shampooing and conditioning of his hair was less painful, but it still hurt his ribs to keep his arms raised like that, so he tried to go fast. Afterwards, he grabbed the soap bar again and mustered the courage to swipe the bubbles over his face. Sudsy fingers slid over small scabs and the bruises hurt just as much as they did a few days ago. He didn’t feel like he had done any healing at all since he had been here and he hoped he would be able to change that.

He sat in the shower long after he was satisfied with his cleaning simply because the water pressure had something to give him. Unfortunately, the water turned cold, and at that Castiel twisted the knobs back in place and ended the steady running of water. He stood just dripping for a minute before sliding the curtain away and reaching desperately for the soft-looking towel folded up on the shelf. The towel was plush, yet when dragged over the tender purple spots flecked all over his body, it felt harsh. He dried quickly and wrapped the unforgiving towel around his waist. 

The mirror was still drowned in fog when he walked past it and into the main room again. It looked no different than it did when he first walked in, save for the smashed clock left dismally on the floor. It was almost as if he hadn’t existed in this room for days, no evidence of living had been left here. But now, the shower had been used. Cleaners would have things to tidy and replace (some of which undoubtedly coming from Castiel’s room deposit). There was evidence he was here, irrefutable proof he had existed. He just needed to keep finding that proof that he was existing. 

He walked over to his bag and rummaged through it for the only other clothes he had with him. The towel got discarded on the bed and he shimmied into his fresh pair of boxers and long khaki pants. He kept the sweater in one hand and grabbed the towel again with the other and made his way back to the bathroom. The condensation on the mirror was starting to dissipate but Castiel used the towel to try to will it away. His reflection was now just blurry, smudging his features. Water that couldn’t be wiped away laid on the surface. He addressed his body again anyway. The bruises were still dark and angry, showing no signs to healing yet. He could have guessed that though by the way that shower went. His face was still a little puffy, but the swelling around his eye was almost gone. The dark purples and blues held on strong though, determined to stay plastered on his skin for the foreseeable future. The shower had gotten rid of the blood speckled on his face and all that was left was tiny breaks in the skin freckled over his cheeks. The dried blood was mostly gone, tiny scabs starting the healing process. It was a lot to take in, but he felt better knowing he could stomach looking at himself this time. 

Tomorrow was Saturday and he was due to check out. He hadn’t done as much thinking as he had hoped during all that time in the room, but he felt at least somewhat capable of thinking now. Castiel pulled the sweater slowly over his head and moved back to sit on the bed, this time bringing his feet up with him so he could sit cross-legged. The thought of continuing to live in or even near Pontiac was too painful. Too much had happened there and it was not safe to go back. He had already come to terms with likely having lost his job since he hadn’t shown up for the two shifts he was supposed to have during his stay here, so he had absolutely nothing to go back to anyway. Maybe Balthazar would miss him, maybe even try to get in contact with him at some point, but other than him, there was no one and nothing good for him there. He had nowhere else to go though, so what could he even do? 

_ You can get in your car and drive. _ The thought felt like a slap to the face.  _ But to where? Where would I drive to?  _ He would have to settle somewhere eventually; one month’s pay wasn’t going to last him long, especially on the road and especially with how unreliable his car was. Still, just going where he pleased, following the road to somewhere and just figuring it out was way more appealing than staying even remotely close to Pontiac. He was sure people would leave him alone on his travels, given his current appearance, and the sudden swell of freedom rose in his chest. He was anxious as all Hell about it, but he was just as pressed as the road outside his window and he felt an obligation to see where it could lead.  _ I’d say it could lead to something better, but anything is better than here. _

Suddenly, his phone started buzzing where it lay on the bedside counter. It sounded different because of the shattered front, having an almost rattling sound accompanying the buzz. He swallowed, throat instantly dry, and reached over for it.  _ April. _ As soon as he read the name he dropped the phone and ran to the bathroom, barely managing to get the toilet seat lifted before he threw up. There wasn’t much in his stomach to give though, so it was mostly bile, burning his throat all the way up. Castiel sat on his knees, head leaned over the bowl as the buzzing continued between its brief pauses. He sat until long after the buzzing stopped; it could have been anywhere from ten minutes to two hours, but he couldn’t be sure. He stood excruciatingly slowly, trembling fingers struggling just to flush away his mess. He padded over to the sink and refused to look at himself again, opting instead to lean down and rinse out his mouth. The water washed away the rancid taste on his tongue.

Before he could change his mind, he strided into the main room and grabbed his phone. The screen displayed sixteen missed calls from April and twenty-two-  _ no _ \- twenty-three text messages. That spark in his chest hit again and he went through with it. Calloused hands gripped the phone tight before he threw it on the floor. He used his heel to stamp it into the ground, the glass he was previously worried about sticking into his skin. The phone blinked before giving up, screen going black. Castiel huffed in relief. It shouldn’t be a victory but it sure as Hell felt like one. He didn’t have a phone now, but she couldn’t get to him anymore. Maybe he would get a new one soon, but even then, she wouldn’t be able to contact him. No way to find him. He hadn’t worried about that until she called. He had been certain she would simply want nothing to do with him anymore after the whole fiasco, but the fact that she called was worrying. He started to worry that she had a way of tracking him by his phone and panic rose in his chest. Focusing on his breathing, Castiel tried to keep himself from hyperventilating. Breaths were shallow and he struggled to keep them steady. 

There was no way to be sure of the time but he could see it was dark outside. He wondered if they would be brave enough to come here to finish him off. He figured they were. They had left him outside of town, likely presuming he wouldn’t be making it back. It must have taken some time to deliberate what they should do about that but it seemed like they must have come to the conclusion that they weren’t finished. As fast as he could, Castiel threw what he had in his backpack and rushed to fit his socks and shoes on his feet. He ran into the bathroom again and decided it best to take the little soaps and the towel since his number of belongings had recently dwindled so greatly. He left the clock and the crushed cell phone on the floor and did a quick once over before rushing out of the room and towards the front lobby.

When he reached the desk, he saw no one so he tapped the little bell on the counter and winced at its deafening sound. He was shaking as he waited, hoping that he would be able to check out and get out of here. After a beat, a petite blonde woman came around the corner with a smile that quickly fell from her face.

“Uh, are you okay? Can I help you, sir?” There was worry in her voice, but mostly, there was fear.

“Yes, please. I would like to check out of my room early.” He set the keys to his room on the desk and stepped from foot to foot, antsy to get this over with. She stared blankly for a moment before nodding and taking the keys off of the counter.

“Of course, sir. Uh, was there anything wrong with your stay?” Her voice was a little less shaky now as she pulled up something on the monitor.

“No, but I must apologize in advance about the clock and I understand the necessity to take the price from my deposit. May I go?” His mouth felt tacky and his eyes kept sliding over to the front door. He was not even sure they were coming, but he felt like if he waited too long, their appearance would be inevitable and he knew he wouldn’t get lucky a second time. 

The woman nodded. “Sure thing. I’m uh, sorry about your stay and I hope you have a good rest of your night, sir.” She clearly had no idea what to make of this situation, but Castiel had no desire to fill in any blanks for the stranger as he rushed past the sliding door and out into the cold nighttime air. The stars were blocked by clouds tonight and stubbornly refused giving guidance once more.

Castiel’s eyes were everywhere, staring too long at different patches of darkness in the parking lot. He fortunately didn’t recognize any vehicles, but that didn’t ease the growing pit in his stomach. Vision grazed over the bushes and trees at the edge of the lot, frantically searching for evidence he could be done for but coming up empty again.

He still did not feel relief even as he shut and locked his car doors. It was not until his headlights were lighting up the highway again that he was finally able to take in a full breath. His heart hadn’t stopped racing and his palms were slowly coating the steering wheel in a thin layer of sweat. He still felt like he was going to throw up, but there was absolutely nothing left to give, so his nothing stayed down. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes glazed over and he drove without intentions. He had nowhere in particular he was going but he was now unable to stop. Tires spun under the weight of the vehicle, spurring Castiel forward, away from everyone that has ever hurt him. Tears threatened to make their presence known, but he was unable to comprehend them as they slowly rolled down his cheeks. Wheels took him far away, turning endlessly in a direction he wa unsure of. 

He drove for hours, dried tear tracks reflecting off of his cheeks from the sun rising over the horizon in front of him. Castiel unconsciously took an exit off of the highway, wet hands sliding over the wheel. Just a little down this road and his eyes started to close, exhaustion begging for his undivided attention. He didn’t notice the slight pull to the right his wheels seemed to have now and he hadn’t had enough time to slow down. Castiel wasn’t even aware when the car bent around a telephone pole. Metal screeched and tires burned dark black tracks onto the pavement. It should have been so loud, but he couldn’t hear it. It should have hurt, but he didn’t feel it. He should have felt scared, but his eyes were closed now and there was an eerie air of peace he couldn’t quite figure out. In the wrecked car, Castiel finally got some sleep.

***

Dean’s alarm blared loudly, its shrill beeps echoed in his room and down into the hallway of the empty house. His fist slammed hard over the button and he was surprised he didn’t break it with the force he applied. In the abrupt silence, the loneliness was tangible. The house was still, no floorboards creaked under the weight of his brother and there was no shuffling about to be heard from the kitchen. All the sounds Dean had grown so used to hearing every morning were no longer present. As he sat up in bed, he felt just about as empty as the house did.

With an aggravated groan, Dean forced himself out of bed and ambled into the kitchen. He started up the coffee maker and leaned against the counter, watching the monotonous dribble of caffeine fall into the cup. The quiet filled the air, making the short time it takes to brew stretch out far longer than it should. When the dripping finally stopped, he removed his cup from under the stream and added his bit of milk. A new spoon joined the old one, abandoned alongside its companion in the sink. He pushed off of the counter, mug in hand, and made his way back towards his room to get changed for work. His back ached from sitting in the car so much the last few days and he wanted nothing more than to relax under the warm flow of a shower at the moment, but work would only get him gross and there was no point in having to shower twice. So, he sucked it up and pulled on his jeans and a tight black T-shirt. He sat back down to slip on socks and shoes and moved his necklace to sit between the shirt and his chest; a necessary precaution being under the hoods of needy cars all day. 

The coffee was slowly drained from the cup, energizing ripples sliding through his limbs. As much as Dean wanted breakfast, today there was simply no time and unfortunately, the warm liquid in his stomach was just going to have to be enough. He sighed, placing the cup by the sink and striding down the hall towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. When his teeth were clean and his mouth felt fresh, he splashed some water on his face to aid in the coffee's job of making him alert and ready for his shift. He grabbed the towel and dried his face before turning off the bathroom light and making his way to the front door. His keys laid alone in the dish by the door and he swiped them up as soon as his weathered leather jacket had been slipped over his shoulders. After stepping out of the house and into the cooler morning air, he turned back and locked the door behind him.

He slid back into his car, his body fitting perfectly in the almost permanent indents he had left there from so much use. As soon as he turned over the engine, the tape in the deck resumed the song it had been playing when he had made it home last night and the volume made him jump. Frantically, Dean fumbled over the knobs, turning the volume down significantly lower than he usually kept it at to compensate for the harsh start. With a sigh, he slowly peeled out of his driveway and started the short ride over to Bobby’s.

Dean pulled into his usual spot in the Singer Autorepair shop and switched his car off. He patted the dashboard and praised her for keeping up with his escapades as of late, promising her she could rest up now. Boots hit the dusty ground outside the Impala and with a loud, whiny shut of the driver’s door, Dean walked into the shop.

“Hey, brother! Good to see you here bright and early! How was all that drivin’?” The question came from Benny, obviously a coworker, but also probably one of his best friends. The tall man had a distinctly Cajun accent and always managed to keep a hat on his head, even when under the hood of a car. Benny pulled him into a quick hug and Dean was back to smiling.

“Good! I’ll never get tired of good old road trips. Maybe you can come with me next time I gotta visit Sammy.” Dean offered playfully. Benny laughed.

“I’d like that, brother, but what do ya think ‘ole Bobby would have to say about both of us taking off for days?” The return comment was said with the same playful jab inflicted in Dean’s voice prior.

“That’s right, boys; don’t you even think about ditching me at the same time. I gotta have one of y’all around to help me out.” Neither had noticed Bobby walk into the garage, but his presence was welcomed. “How was the drive, son? Get Sam all set up out there?”

“Yeah, Bobby,” Dean grinned softly, “I think he’s really going to do great things out there. I’m proud of him.” Bobby nodded his agreement. 

“And how are you doing?” He asked knowingly. Bobby always knew when the boys had been struggling, but he also knew when he should ask things and when to leave things be. Dean respected him a lot for that.

“I’m holding up ‘best I can, y’know? It’s not easy knowing I won’t be there to get him out of trouble anymore.” Dean answered, a little solemn. 

Bobby nodded again. “You know this is just as much of a good thing for you as it is Sam, right? Start looking out for yourself a little now, son.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get right on that.” Dean scoffed, walking away towards the first car of the day. Bobby didn’t say anything more after that and Benny didn’t interject either, so instead they all got to work on their own tasks for the day. 

Working with his hands was always something Dean enjoyed. He liked fixing things people thought could never get fixed and he liked the routine of finding problems and solving them. He loved feeling things out, figuring out the issues with his hands and making things get back into proper working order. Dean never thought he’d be one for college or any of that kind of work. He barely finished high school and the only reason he even went that far was because his little brother begged him to, saying it’d be better for him in the long run. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint Sam, so he struggled through it. Now though, Dean couldn’t even stomach the thought of going to college or getting a degree and he was content working for Bobby at the garage. It felt like home, more so than his own home had felt growing up, and he was happy to spend his working hours around people he liked so much. 

As much as he ached from his days of driving, the work day seemed to be flying by. The few hours spent underneath an old pickup truck seemed like maybe one at most, but when Dean rolled out from under it, sliding between the roughed up wheels, he was surprised to see that the clock was already saying it was 1 P.M. His empty stomach growled the clock, signaling time for the guys’ lunch break. With a grin, Dean walked over to the sink attached to the exterior of the building and scrubbed his oilslicked hands clean. The brown liquid swirled down the drain until it rolled off clear and Dean was satisfied. 

“Thought you’d never come out from under that thing, boy. Hurry up and get yourself one of these sandwiches before Benny decides he gets them all.” Bobby huffed out the front door.

With a smirk, Dean followed Bobby inside and snagged one of the remaining sandwiches left in the middle of the table. They all sat around and ate, a lightness to the air Dean hadn’t been able to fully enjoy for a long time. It helped ease the pain of Sam’s distance and he was grateful for that. When they had finished up, Dean washed the plates quickly in Bobby’s kitchen sink and headed back out to join the guys back at work.

Dean resumed his position on the creeper that he had been laying on earlier and slid back underneath the old rusting truck. Music flitted through the garage and he happily worked away. By the time he had fully resolved the issues under the old pickup, it was nearing the end of his shift and he was hoping he could get a little bit done on one of the cars he was supposed to work on on Monday. They usually didn’t work the weekends at all, but with Dean’s time off, Benny and Bobby both took a day to themselves and they all had promised to come on Saturday to catch up. Now that his scheduled vehicle of the day was done though, he thought it’d be nice to see how far he could get into another fix up before he got his day to relax.

Dean walked over to the board that contained the shop’s list of vehicles, their known problems, and the preferred ‘finish by’ dates. His eyes were still scanning the board searching for his name beside the make/models when he heard the  _ crunch _ of approaching footsteps. He turned around with a grin, ready to make some witty quip at either Benny or Bobby’s expense but he was very mistaken over the approaching person. When he turned around, Dean’s eyes met the stranger’s and he would likely have gotten lost in their deep blue if it hadn’t been for the extreme state the poor man was in.

“Good God, what happened to you?” He rushed over to the man in a second, not caring about the blood that was sticking to his clothes as he helped him sit down. The man groaned loudly in pain. “Bobby! Benny! Get over here!” He called, turning his head in the direction of the others briefly when he yelled. He looked down at the man, trying to see where the worst of his problems was. That was a very difficult task. The stranger had cuts and bruises everywhere, blood thickly covering gashes visible on his face and through the torn fabric of his sweater. He looked severely battered and honestly? Dean was incredibly surprised the man was managing to remain conscious.

“Would you hurry up? Call 911, Bobby!” After his second attempt at calling for help, he heard the quick shuffling of feet over to his area of the shop.

“What the Hell happened to him?” asked Bobby when he finally caught sight of why Dean had been yelling. Dean shrugged and turned back to the guy as he heard Bobby dial his phone. 

“Hey, can you hear me, Buddy? It’s gonna be alright, okay? Can you tell me your name?” The man leaned away from his grasp and shook his head just barely. “Come on, man, we’re gonna get you help, okay? The first responders are gonna ask for your name too, it’ll help if Bobby could tell them now.” He tilted his head to catch the man’s deep blue gaze. He held it for a moment, impressing worry and care into it in hopes to get the guy talking so they can help.

“C-Castiel.” He stuttered. Dean nodded, placing an easy smile on his lips.

“That’s good, Castiel. Do you know where you are?” he asked next. The man- Castiel- started looking around the room, eyes frantically gliding over everything as if he was searching for a way out or waiting for something to pop out and get him. Dean placed his hand lightly on the crook of his arm. His eyes quickly shot back to Dean’s and his brows upturned in fear. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, buddy. Ambulance will be here soon. You’re in Lawrence, Kansas, okay?” At the reveal of his location, Castiel seemed to deflate in relief. He closed his bruised eyelids and the corner of his mouth twitched up for a second.

“What happened, pal?” Dean asked as Bobby interjected to tell them they should be here in just a few minutes. “You’re safe here.” He nudged.

Castiel glanced between the looks of all the men standing around him. “I… I, uh, crashed my um… my car.” Dean furrowed his brows.

“You crashed? Where?” Dean looked around him, not having heard any commotion outside the shop prior to Castiel’s abrupt arrival.

“Uh… I suppose it happened a few miles out of town.” croaked out Castiel.

Dean blinked in surprise. “What? A few miles? And you walked all the way here? Dude, why didn’t you call 911?” He wasn’t sure whether he was more shocked that he hadn’t thought to call himself or that he had managed to apparently walk a few miles in his current state. 

Castiel looked at the ground. “I do not have a phone.” He replied simply, a bit of shame inflicted in his words.

“Alright, man, that’s okay. At least you made it here, huh? They should be here any minute, alright?” Dean tried to be reassuring, but he wasn’t sure he was being very convincing.

“We’ll get that car towed out here free of charge, son. Assuming there’s enough left to tow.” Bobby said, covering the mic end of his phone with his hand as he spoke. Castiel looked up at him and after a few beats, nodded gratefully.

“Thank you. I don’t exactly have the money to get it fixed at the moment, but I promise I will figure something out.” Castiel winced as he spoke, any slight movement in his body obviously causing him immense pain. 

“I, uh, haven’t seen you around here before. Do you live nearby?” Dean wondered, curiosity getting the better of him despite the horrible state of the man in front of him. Castiel tensed a bit before wincing again.

“I, um… no. I was just passing through.” He responded, not freely offering up any more of an explanation. Dean wasn’t going to prod him any further and he was thankful when the sound of approaching sirens went silent as the flashing lights stopped in the open lot out front.

“Alright, come on, Buddy, let’s get you over to the ambulance, okay?” Dean asked softly, the same tone of voice he used to use to soothe his little brother when they were younger. He draped Castiel’s arm over his shoulder and helped him walk outside toward the flashing red lights. As soon as the paramedics saw them, they rushed over to meet them and helped carry Castiel into the back of the ambulance. One team bombarded Castiel with questions, hooking him up to all kinds of things within the vehicle in an attempt to get a grasp on the situation while taking his vitals. After a bit of an assessment, another team came over their way.

“Guy looks pretty wrecked but he’s conscious and talking, so those are always good signs.” The paramedic said with a smile. “Just a few things, if you don’t mind. Do you know anything about him? Name, age, anything he’s taken or any family history?”

Dean answered quickly. “His name is Castiel, but that’s all we know. Came stumbling in here no less than ten minutes ago. Said he wrecked his car pretty bad outside of town and managed to walk all the way here. He’s not a local, though, so we don’t know much else, unfortunately. Sorry.” Dean tried not to feel too worried for the guy, but he was beat up pretty bad and he couldn’t help it.

“Understood. We ask because some of his injuries seem a bit older. You wouldn’t happen to know anything else that could have happened?” The paramedic wasn’t trying to imply anything, but it sounded that way nonetheless.

“No, man, like I said, he just showed up here like that a few minutes ago. Barely spoke to us besides what I already told you.” He seemed satisfied enough with Dean’s response and quickly got all their contact information in case they had any more questions. Dean watched as they all piled back into the ambulances and drove off towards the hospital stationed on the other side of town. He felt sort of left behind, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Poor guy. I wonder what happened to him before the crash if a lot of that was there already. Man looked awfully messed up.” said Benny after the lights and sirens had successfully faded into the distance.

“I’m going to go drive out and see if I can’t find that car of his to bring back before the sun goes down. It’d be nice to have it here before the weekend so we can get started on Monday.” Bobby spoke, a hand patting on Dean’s shoulder. “Benny, why don’t you come with me. Dean, you can clean up around here and maybe go check on the poor guy. He seems pretty lost; bet he doesn’t have anyone able to check in on him.”

“Plus, I gotta admit, brother, I’m mighty curious to see what’s up with him.” Benny added after Bobby had finished. They both smiled at Dean. He was a little confused as to why he should be the one to go check on the guy, but he couldn’t seem to get those blue eyes out of his mind and if he was being honest as well, he was dying to know what happened to him. He wasn’t going to walk right in and pry, by any means, but maybe Castiel could use a bit of help.

Dean nodded his assent so Bobby and Benny loaded up the tow truck and sped off towards the edge of town. After they left, Dean got to work cleaning up from the day’s shift, putting away anything considered a hazard and cleaning off any tools that had acquired grime or oil. Then he checked off on the board what he knew they had all gotten done that day before washing his own hands once more. When he was all done, he locked up the shop and headed out towards his car.

He sat in his car, the strange stillness he had felt all around him earlier was replaced with an odd buzz. Dean wasn’t sure how to go about visiting someone in the emergency room, especially since he wasn’t family, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to say to Castiel if he was even let in.  _ Oh, Hello, Castiel! Remember me? The stranger you just met, like, an hour ago, tops? Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you, I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help you! Why? Oh, because you seem really interesting and for some reason I find myself caring if you’re going to be okay! Of course, I’ll leave you alone, now. So sorry to bother you.  _ The whole scenario played out in his head and just the thought of freaking the guy out made him want to throw up. Instead of turning on the Impala, Dean pulled out his phone and decided to make a call. It only had to ring once.

“Dean! I was wondering when you were gonna call! You finally ready for the Star Wars marathon?” Charlie’s voice was as chipper as ever and as soon as she had started to speak, his nerves eased somewhat.

“You know I’m always ready for that. But uh… that’s not exactly why I called.”

The confusion was evident in her voice. “Oh? That’s alright. What’d you want to talk about?” she asked.

Dean paused for a moment, unsure how to approach this. “Well, something kind of happened at the shop today.”

“Yeah?” the curiosity in her tone replaced the confusion.

“Yeah. Uh, this guy came in, super beat up. Like, I mean this guy was totally messed up, Charlie. Bleeding like a stuck pig, bruises everywhere, just absolutely fucked.” He tried not to choke on his words.

“Jesus, is he okay?” Her voice sounded tinny through the phone.

“I think he will be. He said he got in a crash; Bobby and Benny are actually out looking for his car right now. But, uh, apparently he walked a few miles to get into town before he got here. Anyway, the paramedics were asking us some questions and they said something that kind of worried me, so I’m wondering if it’s a good idea to go check up on the guy at the hospital?” It all came out as a string of words, not being able to stop until he got to his question.

Charlie paused for a moment. Then, “What did they say that worried you?”

Dean swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “They uh, they said that a lot of his bruises and stuff were a bit older. As in, they couldn’t have come from his crash. I know I don’t know him or anything, but I wonder if he had gotten into trouble and might need some help.”

He could tell Charlie was smiling on the other end of the line. “Look at you, Winchester. Always willing to help.” She paused, but not long enough that Dean could retaliate. “I think it’s a great idea. I could come with you if it’d make you feel better? I’m not busy; just come pick me up.”

Dean grinned into his phone. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be awesome, Charlie, thank you. I’ll be there in like, ten, okay? Can you be ready by then?”

“Roger, roger! See ya soon, Dean.” She ended the phone call and after a moment of grinning at his phone, Dean started up the Impala. He backed out of the garage parking lot and drove straight to Charlie’s house. When he got there, he was too hyped up to want to go knock, so he honked from where he was parked on the side of the road. After a minute of staring towards her front door, it suddenly swung open and he saw her bright red curls bounce as she ran from her home to the car. As soon as the car door was shut behind her, she leaned over and gave him a fierce hug.

“Ah, I missed you, but you reek. You really couldn’t have gotten cleaned up first?” She said with a smirk as she buckled up her seatbelt. Suddenly self-conscious, he lifted up his arm to check the validity of her accusations.  _ Jeez, she’s right. _

“Shit. Can we run by mine first then? I’ll take like, five, ten minutes max and you can take whatever snack you find in the kitchen; deal?” He extended his hand towards his friend. She glared at it for a moment then shook it vigorously.

“Big mistake, Winchester. You know I can find any snack you have hidden away.” She smirked at him as he pulled off of the shoulder of the road and now towards his own house.

They got there in record time and practically ran into the house. Dean was true to his word and only managed to take about 5 minutes in the shower. He didn’t think he had ever scrubbed so fast in his life. When he was out, he dressed quickly, put on some deodorant, and for some reason messed with his hair for the first time in forever. After a brief moment of struggle with it, he huffed and gave up on it.

When he emerged fresh and clean from the bathroom, he found Charlie munching away in his kitchen, having found his stash of chocolates. Sammy had never known they were there and even if he’d never take them on the grounds of being a health nut, Dean had hidden them so his brother wouldn’t make fun of him. Now though, Charlie had eaten a few and kept the bag in her hands when they left his home. It seemed the pit stop would cost him  _ all  _ of his chocolates. With Dean no longer smelling like the garage, they hopped back in the car. As soon as they were buckled in, Dean pulled back out onto the road.

“So, is there a reason you got more spruced up in that 5 minute shower than I’ve seen you get in years?” Charlie prodded. Then, with a small, barely perceivable gasp, “Is he cute?” Dean could feel his cheeks warm up slightly, but he didn’t know why.  _ It’s not like I would know anything about that. And even so, under all that blood and those bruises, it’s not like I exactly know what the guy would really look like so who’s to say? But Charlie was gay so why-? _

“Wait, do you think  _ I _ think he’s cute?” Dean turned his head towards her quickly before returning his gaze to the road. She had this cheeky grin on her face and he just didn’t get it. As if there was some secret joke he wasn’t privy to.

“I don’t know… do you?” She brought her fists up under her chin and looked up at him through her lashes, feigning innocence. 

“Charlie, I barely know his name. Plus he was really beat up, I can’t say I’d even really know what he looks like.” Dean was surprised by his own answer, blinking dumbfounded at the road as his brain lagged.

“Hm… noted.”

“Noted? What does that mean?” He wasn’t aggravated, just confused.

“Means that you should know you can talk to me about anything.” was all she gave in response. Dean was still confused by her comments and now her sudden shift towards endearment, so he just left the conversation at that and kept the vehicle rolling towards the hospital.

When they finally got into a spot in the visitor’s parking lot, the sun was setting and he wondered if Bobby and Benny had been able to find the car. He held up a finger signaling to Charlie to wait and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Benny’s number and waited.

“Hey, brother.” Benny greeted in his usual way. 

“Hey, just got to the hospital but I was just checking to see if you guys found his car yet?” Dean had kind of been hoping to bank on the ‘bringing news’ angle for the visit.

“Yeah, I think we found it but it’s pretty messed up. Not sure if it’ll even be worth fixing up, y’know? We just got it loaded up to head back but I’m not sure it’s much more than a few spare parts now.”

Dean sighed, knowing it was good to have news, but not so great only having bad news. “Well, you know I love a challenge, Benny.”

Benny chuckled through the phone. “You sure do, brother. If you manage to fix this thing, I’ll restock all your booze.” That was the official issue of the challenge. Dean now had a bit of ‘good’ news.

“Challenge accepted then, Benny. I gotta go, hopefully we haven’t missed visiting hours. Talk to you later.” Dean hung up as soon as Benny had said his goodbye and turned back toward Charlie. “Alright, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Graphic descriptions of injuries.  
> Read with caution and take care of yourselves! <3


	3. Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Chapter!? Here we go ;)   
> I just have one final left before my winter break officially starts! During which I will be writing up a storm! The goal is to finish writing this whole thing before I start classes again in January, but that may be a little ambitious. Either way, here's your weekly installment, lovelies <3  
> Small warnings at End of Chapter notes!

The ambulance ride had been less than pleasant. Castiel had been hoping to avoid a situation like this by walking directly to a repair shop, but it was just his luck that the guy who found him was so caring. He struggled to answer the paramedics’ questions as all he could see were those beautiful evergreen eyes staring at him with such concern. In an instant he had been captivated by them, and he considered himself lucky to have gotten away. The last thing he needs at this point in time is to think about things that got him into this whole mess in the first place. 

The whole ride they asked questions, poked him with things and checked for vitals. When they arrived at the hospital, he was immediately taken in for examination. Castiel hated taking up space and resources when there were people more in need than himself, so he just wanted to get this over with. He let himself be taken back and examined further. The nurses assessed his wounds and got the smaller cuts bandaged up. After that, he waited for the doctor, who came in to stitch up the large gash over his brow and the bigger tear along his chest. That was not as easy as the wounds just being cleaned. He breathed sharp puffs through his teeth and his fists clenched the bar by his bed, the pain of stitching worse than the wound just being open. Cleaned and all wrapped up, the doctor took time to ask a few more questions.

“So, I’d like to go over this again, please. You said you got in a car crash, correct?” The doctor asked him. Castiel nodded. “Well, you must have been very lucky to have been able to walk away from that. We would still like to get you in for a CAT scan before you rest to be sure there is no damage to the brain. Otherwise, it seems as though you should recover just fine. The only thing that worries us is that most of these bruises don’t look like they came from that crash. Did anything else happen that we should be worried about?” Castiel knew the question was loaded as they already had all the evidence they needed to know more than just a crash happened to him.

He sighed. “Some friends and I had a uh… falling out.” The doctor nodded back.

“And is there any injury from that 'falling out' you would like us to check?” The doctor didn't physically make the air quotes with his fingers, but he might as well have.

After a moment, Castiel’s hand subconsciously went to his ribcage. “Um… maybe. Maybe my ribs, if that’s okay. I don’t know if they’re broken but… but it’d be good to check.” He hated hospitals. Hated them since he was little and had to visit his mother in them every day. He wanted nothing more than to say he was fine and get up and leave, but the nagging pain in his ribcage demanded attention and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

“Okay, then. I’ll have you set up for the CAT scan and an X-ray. I’ll have someone in here shortly to get you for those.” The doctor gave him an easy smile, silently thanking him for being honest with him. Castiel managed a small smile back and watched the doctor leave his room. Now alone, the room felt quiet and oppressive. He saw himself laying there as his mother had and he painfully closed his eyes. It seemed like a long time before they returned to take him away for the X-Rays. The vest placed on his chest pressed achingly over his wounds and bruises and he struggled to keep his composure as the nurses directed him in how to stand. They were over quickly thankfully and he soon found himself back in his room.

Castiel laid his head back against the pillow and waited once more. Time passed slowly in the silence and it seemed like he had waited an eternity by the time the nurses came back in to take him to his CAT scan. They ask him more questions before they get him all set up and slide his body into the machine. It whirs and spins around him, taking images of his brain. He’s never felt claustrophobic before, but inside that machine, he was practically squirming. The whole ordeal only took about thirty minutes and again he was wheeled back to his room.

With the tests completed, really all there was to do now was to wait. Wait for the results, wait to be released. Suddenly, he thought about what he was going to do when he got out. He now had no car and no phone. Nowhere near enough money to pay hospital bills. Not enough money to get the vehicle fixed and nowhere to stay. If he hadn’t crashed, he could have stayed in his car, but that was out of the question now too. He couldn’t even leave this place behind and keep moving now. He was stuck. Anxiety flooded through his chest, making him feel fluttery. His heart beat fast and heavy and his mind raced. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming and he found that he didn’t care if he cried anymore. His cheeks were wet and his eyes no doubt were red-rimmed and puffy again. He felt like he might hyperventilate when a soft knock on the door tried to pull him from his panic.

“Mr. Novak, sir? It appears you have some visitors. It’s after hours but they said it was important, so if you would like, they can visit for just a few minutes. If you’d rather get some rest, I’ll tell them to come back tomorrow.” The nurse spoke in a kind voice, somehow managing to get him to start calming down.  _ Visitors? They couldn’t possibly know where he was, could they? He smashed the phone already. He ran far enough away, hadn’t he? _

“Who is it?” He asked, voice coming out hoarse and dry.

“They said they helped you out and wanted to be sure you were okay. Should I tell them to come back later?” She asked patiently.

After a moment, “No. No, they can come in.” He steeled himself. He didn’t know who it could be, but if it ended up being  _ them _ it would at least solve his growing multitude of issues. The nurse nodded and walked away, presumably to go retrieve his visitors. Panic threatened to resurface but he forced it down.

Castiel wondered if he was dreaming when he saw those green eyes again. It would make sense. He would have fallen asleep already, having been so exhausted from the past few days. He would have maybe been put to sleep from the pain medication the doctors had him on. Or maybe he did have head trauma after all and he was in a coma. Either way, the green eyes that had been so close to his own before were now approaching his hospital bed. And so, he tried to sit up a bit straighter and wiped at his eyes.

“Hey, Cas.” Voice like pure honey made him shiver. “I just came by to see how you were doing.” The man quirked his lips up on one side and Castiel was sure he would have fainted if he hadn’t already been convinced he wasn’t really awake in the first place. “Oh! Sorry, this is my friend Charlie. Charlie, this is Castiel.” The gorgeous man turned from his face to the one next to him and for the first time he noticed there was someone else beside him. He swallowed hard.  _ A girlfriend. Of course he has a girlfriend; look at him!  _ At least he knew now he wasn’t dreaming.

“Nice to meet you, Castiel.” The redhead said warmly. “Dean told me about what happened today and asked me to come with him to check on you. Hopefully the hospital is not treating you too badly.” She joked and he found himself smiling. 

“So, I just wanted to let you know we got your car picked up and moved to the garage. Benny says there’s probably no way to fix it, but I’m stubborn, so I’m sure I’ll get her fixed in no time, Cas.” Again, the voice was like honey, sweet and thick and so inviting. 

“I… Thank you, but I do not believe I have the money to pay for that. I believe I’ll have to abandon hopes of getting back on the road.” Castiel spoke. Dean furrowed his brows.

“Aw, don’t talk like that. I’m sure I’ll get her up and running in no time and I’ll give you a discount. Looks like you’ve been through a lot and I’m up for a challenge, so it’s no trouble.” Dean spoke so nonchalantly, as if there could never be any problems in the world he couldn’t deal with. His smile was bright and he held himself so proudly. Castiel wishes he could be like that some day. 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” The question comes from the red-haired friend. “Dean said you’re not from here and if you need a place to stay, I have a spare room that hasn’t been used in years. I know you don’t know me, but I promise you don’t have to worry about a thing besides maybe being forced to join our Star Wars marathon.” Charlie offered with such selflessness Castiel didn’t know what to say. She had elbowed Dean after she finished and he had lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck. Castiel found it incredibly cute and he hoped the blush he was feeling wasn’t as visible on his features. 

“I’m not sure he’d want to sit around you and Gilda reciting every line Han and Leia say.” Dean had rolled his eyes playfully and Castiel was practically entranced watching the two of them.

“Gilda?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Charlie smiled widely. “Yeah! Gilda’s my girlfriend.” She practically made heart eyes up at the ceiling. “She always joins for movie nights so I guess you’d probably see a lot of her too if you choose to stay. So, what do you say?” She looked so sincere and-  _ oh my God, she’s gay. She’s not his girlfriend.  _

“I, uh, wouldn’t want to impose, really. I’m sure I can figure something out until I can get back on my feet.”

“Nah, man, this is figuring something out! I have plenty of space, but if you’d rather stay with Dean, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” She grinned. His breath caught in his throat. “I mean, his little brother just moved out so he’s got a free room too” Dean didn’t seem to be keeping up with her. After a beat, he blinked and turned his head toward her.

“That’s okay.” Castiel said quickly, stopping his brain from letting him think about being in constant proximity to Dean. He doesn’t think he could handle it. “I guess it wouldn’t be bad to stay with you, Charlie. Thank you for your hospitality. I promise to try to find alternate arrangements as soon as I can.” Her grin widened.

“Nonsense! You seem pretty alright, Castiel. I can already tell we’re going to get along great. Here, I’ll give you my number and I’ll make sure Dean comes to pick you up when you get let out.” She started to walk over, holding out her hand, likely waiting for him to pass over a phone. He looked away sheepishly. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off.

“He doesn’t have a phone, Charlie. I’ll just have the hospital call me when they let him go.” Dean smiled brightly again.  _ God, that smile could very well be the death of me. _ Charlie turned back around and looked between Dean and Castiel.

“That works too. Well, hopefully you’re free to go tomorrow because we both have the day off. We can get you settled and help you figure things out, okay?” Charlie was so sincere, and her loveliness was more than Castiel thought he deserved. Nevertheless, these strangers’ kindness was not going to be taken for granted.

“Thank you. Both of you. You really don’t have to do any of this but I appreciate it more than you know.” Castiel was trying not to let his emotions get the better of him when suddenly the nurse was back outside the door.

“Mr. Novak really needs to get some rest now, you two.” She said sweetly but sternly. Both parties nodded in response.

“Get some sleep, Cas. Even if you don’t get out tomorrow, we could come by if you’d like?” Dean offered, the question spoken softly between them.

“You don’t have to do that, Dean,” He said, then quickly added, “but that would be nice.” Castiel smiled softly back at Dean and tried to debunk the soft pink hue on his cheeks. Dean smiled that bright, toothy grin again and Castiel’s heart just about stopped.

“See ya later, Cas.” He finished just before the nurse all but dragged them away. Now that Castiel lay in silence again, he was overcome with a large mix of emotions. He felt guilty, as if he was taking advantage of these kind people. They were offering him so much and he had no way of returning the favor yet. He steeled himself to finding a way to do just that. He felt anxious, the pure panic of it having possibly been April hadn’t fully subsided and the flurry in his chest had merely been ignored in the presence of company. But most importantly, he felt... happy? The hopelessness he had felt up until now was ebbing away ever so slightly. By no means did he feel whole or functional, but he felt the small pings of hope radiating in him and it felt so good. He would find a way to return the kindness of these strangers and he could find a way to be functional again some day. Suddenly, it seemed remotely possible to keep going despite his past traumas. It would still be incredibly difficult, but if he had a temporary purpose, then maybe he could work towards finding a permanent purpose to keep going every day. It would have to do for now.

Just as he had wrapped up his intricate thought process and started to shut his eyes to sleep, the doctor from before came back into the room holding strange looking sheets that he clipped up onto a board. He flicked a switch and the board illuminated, shining light through the sheets and displaying what appeared to be his ribs.

“Well, it seems like you were right to be concerned about this one.” His finger raised to point out a few dark lines on some of his ribs. “It does appear that you have a few broken ribs here. Fortunately, it isn’t too bad, so there will be no need for surgery. We’ll wrap you up but mostly you’ll just have to take it easy and do a lot of breathing exercises. I’ll have someone come in to wrap you up in a moment then you can rest. We should have the CAT scan back some time tomorrow, and if you’re all cleared on that front then you should be good to go. For now though, just get some rest if you can and we’ll be sure to set you up with something for the pain when you go.” When he was finished, he left the X-rays up on the board but turned the light behind it off. With a soft smile, he backed out of the room once more. It wasn’t even 5 minutes before the nurse came back in to wrap him around his ribcage. The squeeze hurt, but it wasn’t so tight it was unbearable, so he tried to do as the doctor said and just breathe deeply.

The nurse advised him to rest again, just as the doctor had before, and turned the main light off in the room. There was still light coming in from the hall and by a light outside of the window, so it wasn’t too dark, but Castiel still appreciated the gesture. 

It had been an extremely long day. Castiel was surprised when he had woken up in the wreckage, but he was more surprised he didn’t incur life-threatening injuries. The gash across his chest had been the worst of it all. He had gotten more bruises and he was sure it exacerbated his already messed up ribs, but for the most part, the car had bended just around him. It was almost as if the Heavens had decided to look out for him one last time and he couldn’t thank them enough. The gash had come from the glass of the windshield and he had had to remove the large shard from his chest to get out of the vehicle. His chest bled for most of his walk into town but it had gotten sickeningly sticky by the time he saw the town on the horizon. He was surprised to find he had made it into town and there was no way the Heavens hadn’t guided him to that garage. Though inside the hospital, he turned his gaze up to where he knew the stars to be.

“Thank you.” He said simply, unsure if they would be listening or if they had left after giving him this last bit of assistance. Honestly, he didn’t care if this had been their final attempt to help him since he hadn’t truly prayed in so long, but he was thankful all the same. Castiel relaxed back into the bed and let his eyes close. That night, he fought hard to keep away the nightmares. 

***

Castiel woke to the beeping of various hospital machines. For a brief, panicked moment, he thought they were his and something was terribly wrong, but he heard rushing about in the hallway outside his door and assumed it to be a new emergency. Then again he panicked, worrying if it could possibly be that Dean or Charlie got hurt before trying to rationalize that that would be very unlikely. Still, he knew he wouldn’t be entirely reassured until they both came by later.

He was nervous to be staying with Charlie, but he tried to stay relatively calm about this whole thing. She had offered her home (and Dean’s) to him even though she didn’t know him or owe him anything. She had a girlfriend, which instantly made him want to trust her more. So far, no one in his life had approved of his own orientation and it had actually been the cause of most of his problems. But, she was like him in that way and it was an instant comfort to know that she wouldn’t treat him the same way most people had. Or at the very least, it wouldn’t be  _ because  _ of who he was attracted to. That was one of the main reasons he took her up on her offer and even though he thought about the offer for Dean’s place, he had no way of knowing the man’s feelings on this sort of thing and it was definitely not something he wanted to find out while stuck in the confines of a house. Castiel would hope that Dean would be unbothered by it if he knew, considering he knew about Charlie and was apparently very close with her, but he just couldn’t take the risk. But, despite his nerves about running headlong into a risky situation, for some reason it felt like it would be okay. 

The commotion in the hallway slowly died down and after a few minutes, one of the nurses came in to check on him. They made sure his IV was doing what it was supposed to and made sure he was doing well but they didn’t come with any news about the results of his scan. He sighed after they left, hoping that by some miracle the results would come back sooner than expected.

Without a phone, the only way to pass the time was the little T.V. that was mounted on the wall. Castiel grabbed the remote and flipped through a few channels until he found something he thought would be entertaining enough. It looked like a medical drama but it had soap opera vibes, so he was sure it would be enough to pass the time until either Dean and Charlie came by or they were ready to let him go. He tried not to think about Dean, he really tried, but there was just something about him that drew him in. There wasn’t a single thing had seen so far that he hadn’t liked. Castiel swallowed hard and refocused on the show playing quietly on the screen. It cut between scenes of doctors trying to diagnose a patient and doctors making out. It was honestly very confusing to him. He had no idea why licensed and trained medical professionals would be sneaking around like horny teenagers between attempting to save lives. It just made no sense. After a few episodes had aired though, Castiel found himself somewhat invested in the romantic lives of the poor on-screen doctors. It was during a janitor’s closet make-out scene that there came a light rapping on his door. Castiel fumbled quickly with the remote to shut off the embarrassing show from whomever was barging in.

“Heya, Cas.” Came Dean’s voice. Castiel blushed harder in the now quiet room. “Hey, man, you don’t gotta hide liking that show from me. It’s a guilty pleasure.” He laughed easily, shrugging his shoulders. Dean came and sat on the chair next to the bed. “Sorry for just showin’ up. I was bored and Charlie didn’t want me to help her tidy up for you so here I am, I guess.” Dean smiled sheepishly. Castiel found he liked that grin as much as his others. 

“It’s fine with me. I was fairly bored as well… as you could see.” He laughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. Dean laughed with him and he swore it felt like he could fly. 

“Well, I always found this place easier to handle with a bit of company.” He said it so nonchalantly that Castiel almost didn’t catch that he had been in the hospital before.

“Oh? You’re in here often?” Castiel cringed at his choice of words; they bordered close to a pick up line and that was certainly not what he was going for. Dean’s features darkened for a brief moment, it was so quick as to be almost imperceptible.  _ Almost.  _ Then his face lit up again, no trace of whatever had plagued his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I’ve been in here a few times. No biggie. Staff here are great so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He maintained his smile, showing no sign of what he saw before. Castiel wondered if he had imagined it. Either way, he decided it best not to keep up this subject.

“I have noticed that.”’ Castiel paused, unsure where to take the conversation. Luckily, he didn’t have to decide.

“So, Cas, not to just be nosey, but uh, where are you from?” Dean had leaned forward in the chair, resting his chin on his hands in interest. Castiel tried not to be so obvious about stiffening his back. He hadn’t expected twenty questions right out of the gate and that wasn’t necessarily a good starting point. 

“Sorry if that was a little too much,” Dean blurted with nervous laughter, “just thought it’d be good to get to know ya a little since you’ll be moving in with my best friend. I understand if you don’t want to talk about things, though. No pressure, man.” Castiel mulled his words over in his head.

“Pontiac.” he replied quickly, his mouth making the decision his brain could not. “I’m uh, I’m from Pontiac, Illinois.” And suddenly, Dean's smile broke into that dazzling wide grin again and he couldn’t regret a thing. 

“Neat! That’s not too far of a drive, really. Sorry for just starting up with the interrogation though. Feel free to ask me whatever you want. Call it penance.” Dean was still grinning as he leaned against the back of his chair, arms pulled up behind his head. Castiel had thought about Dean a lot since he met him the day before; had cycled through countless questions he wanted to know about the man, but suddenly he came up blank. It was like his brain was lagging.

“Have you lived here long?” He ended up asking. It seemed close enough to Dean’s first question that he assumed it would be safe grounds.

“Yeah, only my whole life.” He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Okay, my turn.” He said quickly. Castiel tried not to find his childlike curiosity to be cute. He failed. “What do you do for a living?”

Of course Dean had no way of knowing that practically every subject would be a sensitive one. “Currently, I do not work. Though I used to work in accounting at one of the bigger businesses back home.” Dean nodded, likely trying to imagine Castiel sitting behind a desk in some suit. Whatever he was thinking, it seemed to amuse him and he let out a small laugh. Unconsciously, Castiel’s head tilted a bit to the side.

“Makes sense, honestly.” Castiel didn’t know what he meant by that, but he assumed it had something to do with whatever he just imagined, so he let it go.

“Obviously I know where you work, so what do you do for fun?” 

Dean blinked for a minute, as if this was the hardest question he had ever been asked. “Eh, I’ve never had much free time, but I guess I’d say that I watch a lot of movies. Actually, I do like to build stuff sometimes, but don’t tell Charlie; she’ll never stop bugging me about it.” He laughed it off, clearly trying to downplay his hobbies. Castiel’s mouth quirked up on the side. 

“Like what?” Castiel was dying to know what kind of things those beautiful hands could make. Dean just chuckled again.

“Ah, ah, ah, wait your turn.” His smile was a little mischievous and Castiel’s heart just about exploded. “Since that was such a good one, back at ya. What do you do for fun?” Dean had leaned back in again and his proximity was going to drive Castiel insane. 

“I uh, I read mostly. I suppose I write a bit as well but it’s mostly stuff like poems or short stories.” Castiel thought fondly of a memory attached to one of his writings. “Actually, I used to read my short stories to the kids at church. I always ended up watching them during mass, and they all loved when I would read to them. I do miss that.” When he finished, Dean was looking at him with a twinge of awe.

“That’s really cool, Cas. Maybe you could read one for me sometime. You know, if you want to.” There was that sheepish look again. He couldn’t meet Castiel’s eyes. 

“Hm… How about this, the day you show me something you’ve made is the day I read something to you. Fair?” Castiel made the offer sincerely, though he did doubt that day would ever come. Still, the idea of there being  _ something  _ to look forward to helped, even if it was something trivial like an art swap. Castiel had never been one to hide his writing anyway, so this possible future trade was an easy offer for him. Dean shot his head up and grinned again.

“Sounds fair to me.” Dean opened his mouth to say something more when there was a knock on the door. They both turned quickly to see the doctor standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Winchester, if you don’t mind waiting out at the desk, I have a few quick things I need to speak with Mr. Novak about.”

Castiel had all but forgotten his injuries (and potential head trauma) because of Dean’s visit. It was like his presence calmed him to his soul. It was almost freaky. Well, it would be if it wasn’t so incredibly comforting, anyway. Dean nodded in response and patted the bed before standing up and heading towards the door. 

“Be back soon, Cas, I’ll go grab us some grub.” As he passed the doctor, he did some strange two-finger salute, turning through the door as his fingers left his forehead. Soon as he had left, Castiel missed him. He knew it was absolutely ridiculous because he had only known him for a day and that is if you even count showing up half dead on someone’s doorstep then immediately going to the hospital ‘knowing someone’. And still, Castiel felt the loss of his presence greatly.

The doctor walked closer to the bed with a soft smile of his own. “Well, Castiel, it doesn’t appear that you have any significant head trauma, though to be safe, we do still advise you to take it easy for a while. No heavy lifting, no running, no sports, all that jazz. Just do your best to recover and don’t try to force yourself. I promise you’ll be happier if you don’t have to go through recovery a second time. I’ll have the nurse come back around shortly and prepare to discharge you. Take care of yourself, Mr. Novak.” And at that, the doctor turned back around and left him alone in his room once more. Castiel couldn’t fight off the grin that had smuggled its way onto his lips. He was going to get out today. He felt a pang of… something. 

There was still an emptiness within him, but just having a place to go after he gets out is like the world is taking the first step for him. The hollowness he had felt before the crash didn’t suddenly go away- it didn’t work like that and he knew it- but it strangely felt like he could try again. The ache was ever present; the only difference since the crash was that he now felt like maybe there was a different life out there for him. The cold he felt inside was still there, just now he was finally getting a little bit of sunlight and he just had to wait for it to warm him up. He could do that; the sun would warm him up. He let himself smile.

Castiel didn’t turn the T.V. back on out of fear that someone would walk in on him again. Instead, he decided to just watch the room quietly. He looked around at the white walls, eyes scanning for any blemishes or cracks. He looked over to the window, the sun streaming in nicely, and wondered how warm it was outside. He turned to the chair that Dean had been sitting in and noted how closely it had been pulled to the bed, wondering if Dean had even noticed he did that. And all the while he was looking, he was thinking. Castiel thought about all the bad he had been through recently. How he never thought he'd have to go through what he did with his family for a second time with someone else but much worse. He thought about how he was so unsure of everything not that long ago in the hotel. How he was still unsure about so many things. About how the Heavens really did decide to look out for him when he crashed. They had given him a chance, brought him somewhere far enough away from everything that had hurt him to start over. He thought about Dean and about Charlie. How these two strangers had already been so kind to him. How they were willing to help him much in the same way the Heavens had. Then, he thought about repaying their kindness. As long as this didn’t turn out to be some sort of long con-and Castiel was pretty sure it wasn’t- then he was going to repay them. He would do what he could until he could find work. Then he would be sure to pay Dean back for his help with his vehicle and pay Charlie for allowing him to stay. He would get back on his feet enough that they didn’t need to help him and then he would decide what he would do. Where he would go. The big questions he still didn’t have an answer to. He hoped those answers would come soon.

He was swimming in thoughts, which were surprisingly more focused on the good than on the bad, when a nurse came back into the room. She was bouncy and all smiles.

“Alrighty, Mr. Novak! Looks like the doctor got you all signed off to leave us here. Now I’m just going to get you unhooked from this guy over here,” She said jovially while taking the IV out of his arm, “and do a quick once over…” she drew out her sentence as she checked over his bandages and retook some vitals. “And you’re good to go! I’ll leave you to get changed and you can just meet me up at the desk to sign off on some stuff and I’ll get you set up with a prescription. Take your time, sweetie.” She smiled brightly as she walked out, closing the door firmly behind her.

Castiel looked around, wondering where his clothes could be since he hadn’t seen them in his previous look-around of the room. He crawled out of the bed and peered underneath it, not surprised it wasn’t there because  _ why on Earth would they put it there?  _ He shook his head and walked over to the little closet. It opened with a creak and he immediately saw a plastic bag that seemed to be just what he was looking for. He opened it up and cringed at the dried blood on his torn sweater. The pants at least didn’t seem to be ripped, but just like the top, had been spotted in blood. He sighed and pulled them on anyway. If he was lucky, he would be able to get his other outfit from the bag still in the car. That is, if it hadn’t gotten ripped somehow in the back seat. He figured he would ask Dean about it when he saw him again. He slipped his shoes on over the hospital socks and was thankful that at least they seemed to be fully intact.

Castiel then stepped out of the room. The hallway was blessedly quiet and he was glad he didn’t run into anyone on his way to the desk. When he arrived, the bubbly nurse greeted him again.

“Good to see you made it here A-Okay! Let me just…” again she drew out her last word as she shuffled through some of her papers. “Here! I just need you to sign off here and… here!” When he saw the bill, he was suddenly thankful that his parents hadn’t remembered to kick him off their insurance. Maybe after this they might. With it though, he was able to pay for his stay with most of what he had left. He was suddenly even more thankful he was not going to have to pay for a hotel. The nurse got him set up with his prescription he was supposed to fill at the nearby pharmacy and told him he was free to go.

“Um, is the pharmacy close by? As in, within walking distance?” Castiel was hoping he wouldn’t have to make them stop somewhere. The nurse smiled again.

“Oh yes, just take a left right outside, it’s just next door, you can’t miss it, sweetie.”

“Oh, okay, thank you. I do not have a phone but if you don’t mind, would you inform Dean that I went that way if I don’t make it back here first?” He really didn’t want to impose, but he didn’t want Dean to think he had just run off the second he was cut loose. The nurse seemed to understand and she nodded. 

So, he thanked her again and walked out of the hospital and towards the neighboring pharmacy. The nurse hadn’t been kidding when she said it was just next door. He waited patiently in line, unperturbed by how many people were waiting in front of him. Mostly he was just trying to ignore the worried stares he was getting. If he was to guess, he was sure it was because of his sorry state of dress, left over blood clinging to cloth around shredded fabric. He was likely a sight to see. He was happy to be out and the nerves were starting to solidify in his stomach. This whole time he had been thinking about how he was going to be going along with these strangers, even living in one of their homes for a bit, and it strangely didn’t bother him when he was with them. Now that he was freed from the hospital and alone in line, the sheer stupidity of what he had agreed to hit him like an anvil from some old cartoon. If his father was here he would have berated him for hours for even considering taking these people up on their offers of help. And then he switched away from that line of thought, knowing that if his father wouldn’t approve, maybe it really was going to be a good thing. He was at war with himself when the pharmacist asked for his prescription.

Castiel handed it and his ID over through the opening in the plexiglass barrier and waited while they typed something into the computer between them. After a moment, they informed him it would be about a 40 minute wait on his prescription. Castiel sighed but thanked them anyway and headed back outside to wait. The air had indeed been warm even though it was the start of Autumn and he took a seat on one of the visitor benches stationed outside of the hospital. He peered in through the window, but when he didn’t see Dean there, he decided it best to just wait outside. 

A breeze whipped through his hair, carrying the soothing smell of the outdoors. Castiel had always spent much of his time outside and nature always found a way to help him be calm. Though he wasn’t exactly in ‘nature’ at the moment, the breeze had carried itself from the woods at some point, and it still brought him comfort. He shook away what worries he had about the situation he was in and decided it best to simply ‘go with the flow, bro!’ as his brother Gabriel had put it. He nodded to himself with a smile and wondered how he was doing.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the rumbling of an engine and the soft crunch of tires. When he looked up, he saw probably the most beautiful car he had ever seen. It was sleek and black and looked like it was made way back in the day-likely the 60s if he were to bet on it. He didn’t notice the engine turning off, but he was surprised yet again when the driver’s door opened and out walked Dean. Castiel was taken aback, mouth dropping open slightly at the sight of Dean getting out of such a vehicle.  _ On second thought, maybe I checked out too soon. Doctor, are you sure my heart is working properly?  _

“Hey, Cas! See they finally let you out of the slammer, huh?” Dean laughed at his own joke and he came to sit down beside him, paper bag in hand. “Got us some burgers from the best place in town. Here.” Dean had already taken out his own wrapped up burger and passed the bag over to him. Castiek took it and set it in his lap before pulling the burger from inside and unwrapping it. He tried to take off the tomato without Dean noticing. When he took his first bite he just couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped from his lips. His face turned beet red and he hoped that somehow Dean hadn’t heard it. 

But he did. Dean let out a deep laugh, trying to swallow down his own bite of food as he did so. “Man, I told you these were good! I’ll have to take you there for real sometime, it’s much better fresh and with a few beers.” He was still chuckling when he took another bite. Castiel just couldn’t seem to will away the blush from his cheeks or the small grin from his lips. 

As soon as the first bite had passed his lips, his stomach vehemently reminded him that it had actually been days since he ate a proper meal. He took bite after bite, wolfing it down within minutes. When he had finished, Dean was laughing again.

“Dude, when was the last time you ate? I’ve never seen anyone eat that fast.” Dean was clearly playing around but Castiel looked up, mentally conjuring a calendar to map out when he last had a real meal.

“Well, if you do not count a few vending machine purchases, I suppose it has been almost a week. I’m not exactly sure, though.” Castiel had spoken truthfully, but was shocked by the look on Dean’s face when he met his eyes again.

“Wait, you’re not kidding? Cas, I would have gotten so much more food if I had known. Hell, I would have brought you something last night too. Did they not feed you here?” His tone was worried, but Castiel didn’t know why this would bother him so much.

“Well, they did give me juice and some yogurt, I suppose. Though I am not convinced that is much more than the vending machine food.” Castiel felt much better after having eaten. He was convinced he could eat more, but he’s glad Dean didn’t bring more as it was likely not a good idea to go from barely eating to stuffing oneself. 

“Thank you for this.” Castiel said after a moment, raising the wrapper slightly to indicate he was referring to the food. 

“No problem, Cas. I’ll make sure to bring a bigger meal to Charlie’s tonight. Oh yeah! We figured it might be best to watch one of the Star Wars movies tonight since we’re all off. We’re hoping it makes you feel more at home, ya know?” Dean was rubbing the back of his neck again, a sign Castiel could now file under ‘embarrassed’. His stomach fluttered. Being this close to Dean let Castiel see more of his face and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed the freckles carefully dusted on his cheeks and his nose before. Castiel had thought there was no way this man could possibly be any more beautiful until now. He wanted to stare, maybe see if he could count them all when he realized that Dean’s last sentence had ended in a question. He blinked away his distracted thoughts.

“I see why you would think that. Alright, then, sounds fine to me. I’m uh, just waiting on my prescription to be filled and then we may go. I was… well, I was kind of hoping I could ask you to make a quick stop before we go to your friend’s house. If it is not too much to ask, that is.” Dean finished chewing the last bite of his own burger as Castiel asked.

“Sure thing, where we headed?” He picked up a drink he had set on the ground and took a sip, offering it to Castiel when he finished. It took a lot of effort to decline the drink.

“I um, I do not exactly like wearing my blood on my clothes. If your coworkers did manage to get my car, I was hoping to get my bag from the back seat. It’s kind of all I have at the moment.” He hadn’t meant to be that honest about it, but he had said it anyway. That shocked expression was on Dean’s face again though and he worried he shouldn’t have been so honest.

“We can do that, Cas. Pretty easy pit stop.” He was smiling again and suddenly the worry was gone and Castiel was grinning a little too.

He looked down at his hands. “Thank you, Dean. Though I do not understand why you are helping me, I appreciate it more than you could know. I will not forget this kindness.” Castiel didn’t look up from his hands as he spoke, too afraid he was overstepping.

“Don’t need a reason. You needed it, and I was able to do something. I’m sure you would do the same thing.” Dean stated.

“Still, thank you. This is already more than I deserve and I-” Dean held up his hand to stop him.

“Cas, you’ve clearly had it rough. I’m not going to presume to know what happened to you and I’m not going to make you tell me either. But just from one day, I can tell that you most definitely didn’t deserve whatever it was. Don’t let yourself think you deserved it, okay?” Castiel was taken aback. Dean had no way of knowing if he did or did not deserve it, but he had such conviction Castiel was hard-pressed to disagree. 

Castiel opened his mouth to say something else, but let it drop. He simply nodded instead. “I think I will go check on my prescription now. I believe it should be done. I will hurry.” He blurted it all out as he stood up and walked away, unable to meet Dean’s undoubtedly worried gaze. 

Castiel rushed back inside and let out the breath he was holding. Dean could practically see right through him and it was both terrifying and absolutely thrilling. A small hope prickled at the back of his mind that maybe he wouldn’t have to hide anything from him someday. The line inside had dispersed, so he was able to walk right back up to the counter. The pharmacists confirmed his order and after another small chunk of money was reluctantly handed over, Castiel quickly made his way outside and back towards Dean’s car.

When he got back, Dean was inside with the engine running, music playing sort of loudly from the speakers. He crawled into the passenger seat and buckled in.

“Hope they at least gave you the good stuff.” Dean grinned wildly as he pulled out of the hospital and in the direction of the garage. 

“I hope so too. I have to admit, broken ribs are not fun.” Castiel conceded.

“Shit, Cas, broken ribs? Those do suck pretty bad.” Dean replied. Castiel tried to ignore the implication that Dean had broken ribs at some point or another in his life. He didn’t want to accidentally bring up something he didn’t want to speak about, so instead he just nodded in agreement.

The drive was surprisingly short and once they were parked at the garage, both of them were out and walking towards the front. When they reached the entrance, Dean picked out a key on his key ring and unlocked the door to let them in. They walked through and into the garage and they both cringed at the horrific sight of his car.

“How the Hell did you get out of  _ that?” _ Dean grimaced.

“I guess I was lucky.” Was all he had to say.

“I’d say so, Cas.” 

After a brief struggle of reaching carefully around broken glass and bent metal, they were able to successfully remove Castiel’s bag from the back seat. He could have danced for joy seeing that the bag wasn’t ripped despite being trapped and covered in shattered glass. 

“Ah, do you mind if I change?”

“Sure, there’s a bathroom just around the corner, Cas. Take your time.” Dean nodded in the direction of the bathroom and Castiel quickly sped off.

When he closed the door behind him, he stripped of his ripped and bloodied clothes as fast as he could manage and put on the clothes he had been wearing when he left Pontiac. It wasn’t much better, but his trench coat offered another layer of safety he would never again take for granted. He quickly used his deodorant as well and after a quick use of the toilet, he was walking back out to meet Dean.

When he came into view, Dean was staring at him. “Is there…. Something wrong?” he asked, a little nervous. Dean seemed to swallow quickly after that and shook his head. 

“Nah, man, just didn’t peg you for a trench coat kind of guy. Suits you, though.” He said, then added quickly, “Now come on, Charlie called while you were in there and she says Gilda’s leaving soon. She wants you to be able to get a little settled before we start up the movies.” Dean had that bright grin plastered on his face again and Castiel couldn’t help but to smile with him. It seemed that was going to become a habit. 

Where is there to go? For now? Right here was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mostly there's a little bit of depression vibes and some descriptions of injuries!   
> Love you all <3


	4. Starting Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again! A bit late in the day to post, but oh well. Wanted to get this out for you guys! I'm slowly realizing just how long this fic might end up being and oh man, I'm going to have to crack down and write up a storm these next 3 weeks before classes start again! Anyway, enough of my rambling, here you go! <3

Dean parked the car in front of Charlie’s place, stepping out almost as soon as he turned off the engine. The whole ride over from the garage he was sort of tense and he just couldn’t understand why. He had attempted to make some sort of small talk but all he managed to do was joke around and he wasn’t too sure any of those landed too well with Cas. Sure, he had laughed at a few and smiled at most, but for some reason, Dean just couldn’t shake this strange feeling from his stomach. It wasn’t exactly nervousness, but it was sure something close. And he had no idea where it had come from either. One minute they had had easy conversation in the garage and then it was like he couldn’t seem to form proper sentences after Castiel had joined him back in the car. Dean didn’t feel the need to try to figure it out now though, so he attempted to leave that odd feeling behind in the car.

“Alright, Cas, I’ve got to debrief you before you walk in there.”  _ See, Dean, talking’s easy!  _ Dean placed a hand lightly on one of Castiel’s shoulders as he spoke. Castiel held an air of confusion. “Charlie’s place is kind of a war zone for fandom stuff, alright? You’re going to see a lot of stuff in there you may not know. So if there’s something you see that you don’t recognize where it's from, don’t ask her unless you’re prepared to watch whatever the Hell it is in its entirety in a day. She won’t go easy on you just because you’re new. Got it?” Castiel nodded though his brows were furrowed, still perplexed.

“Uh, thank you for the warning, Dean. I appreciate it.” Castiel said a moment later as he blinked away his confusion. Dean patted his shoulder where he had been resting his hand and walked up to the front door of Charlie’s place. Once up the few small steps, he rang the doorbell and waited, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands clasped innocently behind his back. The door swung open lightning fast, Charlie grinning from ear to ear on the other side of the threshold. She pulled him in for a hug the second her hand was off of the door and Dean couldn’t help but smile. Charlie always had a way of calming him and it seemed he was incapable of being in a bad mood around her. Whatever had been worrying him from the car ride over was washed away with the hug and he couldn’t have been more thankful.

“I’d hug you too, Castiel, but it looks more like I’d hurt you than help you.” She laughed as she pulled away from Dean. She gestured inside, stepping back into her home and standing at the other side of the opened door. “Come on in, guys!”

Dean walked in first, so familiar in this house it was almost a second home to him. He had spent more time than he could count over the years at Charlie’s place. They had been best friends since they were little and if there was ever a time he had needed to get himself and Sammy away from their own home, he and his brother had always been welcomed here. They had spent so much time together she was practically his sister by now and he loved her just as much as he loved Sammy. He didn’t need to worry about Castiel being here; he was sure she would make him feel welcomed. And for some reason, he didn’t feel worried for Charlie to have practically a stranger in her home either. There was just something about Castiel that Dean couldn’t place. He was so interesting that Dean couldn’t reign in his curiosity around him. He was well-spoken and despite whatever had happened to him, he seemed like a good guy. Dean felt that Castiel was trustworthy, but he just needed someone to give him a chance. 

“Your home is lovely, Charlie. I really can’t thank you enough for allowing me to stay here. I promise to be a good roommate.” Castiel broke the quiet with his gravelly voice and a soft smile. Charlie laughed at his words but Dean’s breath caught in his throat for a moment before he swallowed it down. He had noticed how gritty Castiel's voice was the first time he had spoken, but now that they were out of public spaces with no background noise to pollute the sound, his voice sounded earthy. It was almost soothing to listen to.

“Oh, I’m sure we’re going to get along great. Come on, I’ll show you do your room and you can unpack and get settled and join us whenever you’re ready. I bought some stuff so Dean could cook tonight, so you’re in for a treat!” Charlie said giddily as she walked away from Dean and towards where he knew the empty room to be. Dean started to follow them, about to grumble jokingly about having to cook when Castiel spoke.

“Well, this is all I’ve got so I don’t think I’ll need to do much unpacking.” He said it lightheartedly, but the reality of it hit Dean like a truck. Castiel really had nothing here. He had essentially been stranded here with nothing but the clothes on his back. 

“Well, we’ll just have to change that. I’m sure Dean’s got some clothes you can borrow until we figure out how to restock your closet.” Charlie smiled at Castiel, her hand resting lightly on the crook of his arm. Dean just blinked when they both turned to face him.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I’m sure I’ve got plenty of old stuff I don’t wear anymore that would fit you if you wanted them.” Dean couldn’t help but to rub at the back of his neck. A faint smile was painted on Castiel’s lips and suddenly Dean felt that strange feeling he had in the car again. He conceded to trying to talk to Charlie about it at some point. Well, maybe.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel said softly, stunning blue eyes meeting his own for a spell before he turned back towards Charlie. “If it’s alright, I would still like a moment. I won’t take long.” 

Charlie nodded, her bright red curls bouncing as he head moved. “‘Take your time. I’ll have Dean start up the food. We’ll just be in the kitchen then.” Castiel then walked into the room and Charlie came back down the hallway towards Dean. She seemed cheerful, but also like something was worrying her. When they got to the kitchen, Dean thought about asking her what was wrong. Instead, he gave her some time to think as he opened a beer Charlie had left out on the counter for him. He sipped on it and waited as she paced back and forth for a few minutes. He was about to give in and ask her what was up when she started talking.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” She asked suddenly, worrying over the side of her thumb with her teeth. “I just… I don’t know what happened to him but from the looks of it it was pretty huge.”

Dean pulled her in for a hug. He spoke softly into her hair, “I think he just needs some time, Charmander.” He was sure to use the nickname from when they were kids so just maybe she would believe him. “I think he’s been through something pretty bad, but he seems like a tough guy and I’m sure he’ll pull through. And besides, I think he’s kind of like our friend now in a way so I know we’ll be around to help if we can. He may just need some time.” At some point during his small speech, he had started rocking her and she had buried her face in his chest. He placed a small kiss in her hair and she let out the air she had been holding in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I like him a lot, too. I know it’s weird to start a friendship so fast but I don’t know, it’s like I‘ve known him for awhile somehow, you know? I don’t know how to describe it, I just… I hope he comes to think of us as friends, too.” She felt Dean’s nod as his head was still rested on her own.

“I hope so, too. Now, were you planning on helping me with dinner or are you just using me as unpaid labor?” Dean grinned cheekily as they pulled apart from their embrace. Her eyes had looked a little wet, but her smile was back on her lips and he was happy to see it.

“Do you think I ever planned on helping you, Winchester?” She raised a brow.

Dean rolled his eyes playfully. “I should have guessed.” Charlie laughed and Dean couldn’t find it in him to be at all annoyed by having to make dinner. He was happy to cook usually, but with Castiel here, he was almost jumping for the opportunity to cook the man a good meal. Just thinking about it made that feeling return to his stomach again and at this point he was almost welcoming it-whatever it was. He opened the fridge to see what ingredients Charlie had bought and couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his lips. 

***

Castiel heard their footsteps walking away from the bedroom. As they faded, he sat down on the bed with a sigh. The car ride over had been a little awkward, but Castiel hadn’t minded. Dean had spent the whole drive talking and making jokes and the light air had been welcomed after all he’d been through lately, but with the imminent arrival at Charlie’s place, he just couldn’t get past his nerves. He had only met her once at the hospital before agreeing to live with her, and the gravity of it all had really started to hit him on the drive over. But, as soon as he got inside her home, there was something about it that made it feel right. So after being shown to his room, he needed a minute to deal with the emotional whiplash he was going through.

After a moment spent to catch his breath, he looked around the room that would be his for some time. The bed he was sitting on was comfortable, a soft blue comforter resting overtop the eggshell-white sheets. The room had a decent sized closet and a bedside table for items that Castiel didn’t have. When his eyes caught sight of the full length mirror, he dragged himself up and over to where it was hung. He grimaced when he saw himself in it. He was all bandaged up now, but it was evident that he had quite a few injuries. Taking in everything, he decided to remove the trench coat and jacket, leaving himself in his slacks and white button up. If he was honest, this outfit had only barely fared better than his ripped sweater, and that was only because this was technically still intact. There were flecks of blood around the collar still and it was fairly clear it hadn’t been washed in some time. After another short deliberation, Castiel unbuttoned the top two buttons, giving himself a little more breathing room and alleviating a slight bit of the pressure on his chest. It wouldn’t do much considering the bandage tightly wrapped around his torso, and for a brief moment he entertained the idea of removing the shirt entirely. He  _ was  _ very wrapped up and having the shirt on really wouldn’t cover that much more than the bandages already do. Finally, he decided that instead of removing it fully, he would leave it open, removing that extra pressure but not having to go out too exposed. A happy medium.

A little more calm and a little more comfortable, Castiel left his bag on the bed and made his way back out to join Dean and Charlie. As he approached what he thought to be the kitchen, he could hear their muffled voices through the wall. Castiel stilled, worried he would startle or interrupt whatever conversation they were having. Instead of eavesdropping, though he wanted very badly to know what the two of them were talking about, he stepped lightly past the kitchen and on into the living room. Now comfortably out of earshot, he let out the breath trapped in his lungs and plopped down on the couch. He didn’t want to turn on the television since they all planned on watching movies and his lack of cell phone left him little to do as he waited. He pondered over the possibility they had been talking about him but quickly shook away the thought, knowing that even if they had been discussing him, there would be no way to know whether it was good or bad so there would be no use entertaining the thought of him being a topic of discussion. And so, Castiel practically twiddled his thumbs as he waited for one of them to come through the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, Cas!” Came a shout from the kitchen. Castiel jumped, quickly turning his head toward the direction of the voice. It had clearly been Dean, Charlie’s voice was nowhere near that deep. Instead of yelling back, he got up and padded over to the kitchen, accepting the invitation to enter.

“Yes?” He asked upon passing from the carpeted room to the linoleum. 

“I just wanted to know if you wanted-” Dean paused his sentence halfway through as he turned away from the counter and towards Castiel. He could feel his eyes scan over his torso and he was about to be self conscious enough to pull his shirt closed when Dean continued. “...a beer. Jeez man, I didn’t see how bad you were busted up before. I think I’m going to insist you have that beer.” When he finished, he rinsed his hands off quickly in the sink then pulled open the fridge to grab another bottle. He twisted it open with the hem of his shirt and handed it over to Castiel. He usually didn’t drink, but for once, he felt like it.

“Thank you.” He said, taking a small swig of the brownish liquid. It was cold and though beer usually disgusted him, this one tasted good enough. “It has been quite a long time since I’ve had one; it’s good to know they don’t taste as bad as I used to think.” He huffed out a breathy laugh after his words. It made Dean smile.

“Yeah, after awhile they kind of grow on you.” Dean said as he walked back over to what he had been previously occupied with. Charlie had pulled out the chair next to her on the island opposite of Dean and motioned for Castiel to come take a seat. And so he did.

“So, Cas,” Charlie started; Castiel tensed, “what’s your favorite movie?” He relaxed again.

“Well, I have not seen very many. So I suppose I’d have to say that Matchstick Men would be my favorite.” Castiel said simply before taking another sip of his beer. Dean turned around with an eyebrow raised.

“Matchstick Men? You’re favorite movie is a Nicolas Cage film?”

“Yes, I do believe I have seen every film he has made. Other than those and the movies we watched from church growing up, I cannot say I’ve seen anything else.”

Dean laughed loudly then, short bursts making him tear up and swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand. Castiel just watched him with confusion, glancing over at Charlie to see a wide grin on her face as she looked between him and Dean. Dean struggled to reign in his laughter and return to normal breathing. 

“You haven’t seen-” He took in a breath, “-any movies that don’t have Nic Cage in them?” Dean closed the gap between them, a stupid smile on his lips as he clasped his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel shook his head, eyes squinted. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Cas, that’s just really funny. We are going to fix this though.” He turned to Charlie. “So we’re upping movie nights from once a month to like, every weekend, okay?”

“Sounds good to me!” She replied excitedly. Castiel couldn’t help but smile as well when they both seemed so happy. 

“Alright then it’s settled. I know we’ll always have Sundays off, so maybe we pick a few to watch. You buy the food, I’ll cook. Sound fair?” Dean walked back over to whatever it was he had been working on before and continued with his preparations. 

“Sounds good to me, Winchester. You alright with movie Sundays?” Charlie asked Castiel, a soft look in her eyes. He felt warm in his chest for some reason and couldn’t tear the smile off of his face. 

“I suppose that could be fun.” He said finally. Charlie raised her hands in victory.

“Sweet! Oh, man what do we even put first on the list? Oh no, I’m going to have to make a list!” She started talking hurriedly, animating with her hands.

“Please start with your favorites. I would really like to see those.” Castiel offered, earning himself an even brighter smile from Charlie and an over the shoulder smile from Dean. Castiel was still grinning like a fool when the doorbell rang, causing Charlie to squirm in excitement.

“Gilda’s here! Come on, Cas!” Charlie sprung off her chair and held Castiel by his elbow as she raced off towards the front door. Never had Castiel felt more like part of a family than right then. Even his own family had never really gotten on the way most people do, but suddenly, everything felt alright and he started to wonder if he could really fit here. If he could, maybe he could stay.

***

As Dean watched Charlie drag Cas out of the kitchen, the stupid grin refused to leave his face. Everything just felt right. He really liked Cas already and the only thing that could make the night better would be if Sam had been here to meet him too. He shook his head. Maybe he could convince Cas to road trip with him to see Sam the next time he goes out that way. He’s sure Sam will like him just as much as he does, but it feels like he just needs to know.  _ Maybe I could video call him? Nah, not yet. I’ve only been back for two days. Maybe next movie night…  _

His thoughts steamrolled through his head as he put the food in the oven to bake. Dean stepped away from the oven and over to the crockpot and added the final few things into the sauce that was stewing in there. It wouldn’t be too much longer now until dinner was ready and he really couldn’t wait to see how Castiel liked it. He had made this dinner for Charlie countless times. It was one of her favorites and neither of them tired of eating it. Dean was starting to feel the nerves in his stomach again as he sat alone in the kitchen. He could hear the laughter of the others from the living room as Charlie had likely introduced Gilda and Cas. He could practically see the way she would be bouncing around the room, sticking to the sides of one of the guests before flitting over to the television to set up the movie. He smiled to himself at hearing Charlie giggle and even thought he heard Cas laugh for a minute. He was thinking about heading out to be with everyone when the oven beeped, signifying the end of the meat’s cooking process.

Dean slipped on Charlie’s oven mitts (they were little bear paws and no matter how many times he denied it to Charlie, he loved them) and pulled the piping hot tray off of the rack. Setting in on top of the oven, he quickly grabbed the spatula laid out on the counter and scooped every bit off the tray, depositing each carefully into the sauce in the crockpot. He stirred mindfully, being sure not to break any of the pieces but making sure each one was covered in the red mixture. The scent wafting from the pot was heavenly and his mouth instinctually watered. He quickly covered the crockpot with the glass lid and left the kitchen to tell the others about the status of dinner.

When he walked into the living room, the group had moved over to the couches. Charlie was snuggled close to Gilda’s side and Castiel was sitting on the other couch alone. He was smiling. The breath got caught in Dean’s throat as he was about to speak. Cas’s eyes were bright and the smile was gummy, a comfortably effortless glow around him. Dean had the sudden urge to hug him or just be closer even, but he swallowed that down and instead cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him, smiles staying on their faces, and Dean couldn’t stop the blush fighting its way onto his cheeks.

“Uh, dinner is just about ready. So everyone come grab a plate and we can start this movie.” Dean managed, a half-smile on his face as he fought away the feeling in his stomach. Cas hadn’t stopped looking at him and he could practically feel his eyes on him. 

“Finally!” Charlie yelled, shaking Dean out of his thoughts. They all got up off of the couches and followed Dean into the kitchen. “Oh, you’re going to love this, Cas. It’s Dean’s best recipe, in my opinion.”

Dean beamed when Cas looked over from Charlie to him. “What is it?” Cas asked, finally knowing he could get an answer now that everything had been made.

“Only the World Famous Winchester Family meatballs! Best meatballs you’ll ever try, I can guarantee you that. Now get yourself a bun and everybody load up!” Dean remarked, starting off the train of plate-filling. He scooped countless meatballs onto everyone’s buns, dishing up his own plate last and following everyone back into the living room. They had all sat back down where they had been sitting before and Dean pushed away that lingering feeling in his stomach as he sat down next to Cas. 

Before they could dig in, Charlie got up to dim the lights and start the movie. Finger hovering over the play button, she started, “I would like to thank you all for being here this fine evening. As this marks the end of monthly movie nights, thus begins weekly movie nights. It is with humble thanks that I press this play button for this- the first time our new friend will watch Star Wars. Let us all refrain from spoilers and eat this bread. Amen.” She finished her speech with a chuckle before quickly hitting play and rushing back over to her spot on the couch.

“That was beautiful, Charlie. I wasn’t aware that you prayed.” Cas said, clearly not catching Charlie’s jokes. Dean nudged him lightly with his elbow.

He spoke in a hushed tone now that the film was starting up. “She doesn’t, Cas. That was a bit. She’ll start up speeches sometimes and you just never know how she’ll end it. Keeps ya sharp.” He said with a wink as he brought the bun up to his mouth to take a bite. He was thankful he was chewing as he watched the range of emotions flash over Cas’s face, clearly outlining his thought process. Cas ended up with a soft smile on his lips.

“I see, thank you, Dean.” He said finally, gritty voice low as to not disrupt the sound of the film coming from the speakers. Dean struggled to swallow his bite but gave Cas a smile nonetheless. Cas smiled back at him before turning his head back towards the screen and taking his first bite. Dean watched his face as he did so, proudly grinning when Castiel closed his eyes and tilted his head up with a small groan. At this point, he didn’t care if it was weird or not, he wasn’t ever going to get tired of getting that reaction about his food. Cas looked over to him after he swallowed and Dean grinned happily.

“I take it you like it, then?” He laughed, still trying to keep his voice down as he garnered a teasing glare from Charlie. 

Cas nodded. “Yes, Dean, this is very good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a very, very long time. Thank you.” Cas tried to display his level of gratitude in his eyes, baby blues trained on Dean’s own as he spoke. The feeling of something in his throat returned to him and Dean shifted his eyes away for a moment before returning to Cas’s.

“No need to thank me, buddy. Plenty more where this came from.” He managed to smile, successfully hiding away whatever was happening to him. It was like he couldn’t function properly sometimes around Cas. His intense stares always held him in place and on more than one occasion in the short time they’ve known each other, he’s caught himself looking down at Cas’s lips.  _ Really, what is up with me lately? _

Cas smiled again before turning his gaze back to the T.V. and suddenly Dean could breathe again. It was strange that way. If Cas was looking at him it was like he stole the air from his lungs. When he turned away it was as if he was given permission to breathe again. It was frustrating to him that he didn’t understand why this was happening, yet he spent the entire movie watching Cas instead of the television, making sure he was paying attention in case Cas looked over at him. He happily answered any of his questions about the movie-  _ What was his name again? Why is the tall one so furry? I like the droids, Dean, please tell me nothing bad happens to them? _ -and left only briefly to get another beer and refill Cas’s plate. Cas had thanked him for that and managed to eat a whole other sandwich, proving to Dean that he really hadn’t eaten in days. As Dean leaned back against the couch, arms draped over the back, he let his eyes close. He felt so content here like this. It felt good to feed a group. It was nice sitting down and getting to watch a movie with friends (even if he watched very little of it personally). It felt good having Cas be a part of all this, too. He fit here with them and Dean found himself hoping that maybe Cas would like it here in Lawrence enough to stay. 

***

“Aww, look at them.” Charlie whispered to Gilda under her arm. She pulled her gaze from the sleeping boys on the other couch to look up at her girlfriend. Gilda was smiling back down at her. 

“I think they’re cute.” Gilda agreed, placing a small kiss on Charlie’s nose, causing her to scrunch it up under her lips.

“Not as cute as you are.” She grinned, leaning up to steal a kiss from her lips instead. After a few more kisses exchanged between quiet giggles, Charlie snuggled back into Gilda’s side. She looked back over at Dean. He had fallen asleep on the couch at some point during the first movie. Then, he had been leaning against the back of the couch, mouth hanging open and the occasional snore slipping out, causing them all to snicker to themselves. Now though, Castiel had fallen asleep as well. He was curled up against Dean’s side, head lolled against his shoulder. Castiel had followed Dean into slumber somewhere during the second movie and now that it was over, Dean had shifted some since he had passed out originally. Now that Cas was against him, his arm had slipped from the top of the couch and was tucked tightly behind Cas, hand visible over his waist. His head was leaning on Cas’s and both of them were breathing softly, mouths hanging open. When Charlie said they were cute, she meant it.

She quickly leaned over to pick up her phone and check on the time. It was nearing midnight and she knew Dean was supposed to work tomorrow, so she had the unfortunate job of breaking up that cute cuddle puddle they were in. She decided it best to say goodbye to Gilda first, though.

“Thank you for coming.” She grinned, kissing her cheek softly. “Sorry to send you away, but it’s Cas’s first night here and I think it may be in poor taste for you to stay over.” She laughed lightheartedly. Gilda laughed too, nodding.

“I understand, love. Good luck waking those two. I’m lucky to miss it.” She grinned into another kiss before getting up off of the couch and pulling on her shoes and leather jacket.

“Yeah, if I can manage it, I’m going to just wake Dean. Wish me luck.” She said sheepishly, blushing against the final kiss from her girlfriend as she softly closed the door behind her. Walking back over to the living room, she eyes them cautiously as she gathered up all the plates and bottles and took them back into the kitchen. She switched off the crock pot which had been keeping the extra meatballs warm and spooned the leftovers into a tupperware to put in the fridge. She decided she could do all the dishes tomorrow, so once the leftovers were safely tucked away, she returned to the living room.

Upon entering, she could see now that the two of them had somehow snuggled in closer and she was beginning to wonder if it was going to be possible to just wake Dean. Dean had slumped down a little and Cas’s head was more on Dean’s chest than his shoulder now. Dean’s other arm was also wrapped around Cas, his hands meeting over Cas’s waist. Before she could break this apart, she  _ needed  _ a picture. Quickly, Charlie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and snapped a photo, checking to be sure it wasn’t blurry. Satisfied, she tucked it away again and took a deep breath, gathering the courage she would need to do this properly.

She lightly placed her hand on Dean’s left shoulder, the one Cas was not on. “Dean.” She whispered, hoping beyond hope that this would be one of the lucky times he didn’t jerk awake. She pushed lightly on his shoulder and he moved for a second. Apparently it was only to pull Cas closer to him, causing the other sleeping man to sigh.  _ How on Earth are they so cute?  _ She took another breath and lightly shoved his shoulder again. “Dean, you gotta wake up.” She said again, her tone soft as ever.

With a soft, slow intake of breath, Dean’s eyes opened and groggily looked over at Charlie, hand not moving off of Cas just yet. 

“Hm?” He managed, clearly not yet fully awake.

She smiled down at him. “Dean, you gotta wake up. We’ve gotta get Cas to bed, okay? Don’t wake him.”

Dean blinked a few times then looked down at Cas, who was currently happily wrapped in his arms. Blushing furiously, he quickly snapped his head up to Charlie, though his hands didn’t yet leave Castiel.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Was all he said. Charlie just nodded.

“Neither did he, but he’s got a bed now so he shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch, don’t you think?” She asked him. He looked back down at Cas and Charlie was sure she saw fondness in his eyes.

“You’re right. I’m sure I can carry him. Just a sec.” Then Dean slowly shimmied himself out from under Cas, expertly shifting his weight off the couch and up into his arms. Castiel must have really been tired because he didn’t wake despite the shuffle. Instead he tucked his arms in front of his chest and against Dean’s and let out another soft sigh. Charlie watched Dean’s face as he did that and couldn’t miss the look that was there. She grinned to herself as she followed him into Cas’s bedroom. Stepping in front of him, she pulled back the new covers and lightly patted the bed to indicate to Dean it was okay to set him down now. Dean swallowed and hesitated for a moment before reluctantly placing Cas in the empty bed and pulling the covers over him.

“Gonna give him a little forehead kiss?” She whispered next to Dean, catching his quiet glare. “What? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” She shrugged.

Dean almost seemed to contemplate it for a second, before rolling his eyes at her and walking back out towards the living room. Giving one last look at Castiel’s peacefully sleeping frame, she shut the bedroom door and followed Dean. When she reached the living room, he was pacing back and forth, fist by his mouth as his teeth worried over his nails. Charlie couldn’t stop the soft smile from resting on her lips. Suddenly, Dean stopped and looked up at her, his eyes a mix of emotions. She definitely saw confusion and fear there, but she was sure there was more.

“What’s happening, Charlie?” He asked, his voice small and a little hoarse.

“Well, that depends how you look at it.” She offered simply. He didn’t seem to understand her, so she continued on. “If you’re thinking about this the way you usually do, you are scared because it seems you’ve gotten close with Cas pretty quickly. If you ask me, I think you could be worried about something else too. You remember in the car yesterday before we went to the hospital? When I told you you could tell me anything?” Dean’s eyes look a little frantic, but he nods along with her anyway, wringing his hands together in front of his chest. “Now is one of those times where you can tell me anything, Dean.” She says, hoping it’s enough to push Dean towards an actual thought process for once.

He seemed to struggle to swallow before nodding again. “Yeah…” He said quietly. Charlie could see the gears turning in his brain and she stood there, patiently waiting for Dean to come to any formation of words. She didn’t want to push him too hard for it, but the man needed a little nudge sometimes when it came to these things. 

“Yeah.” He repeated slowly. “I-I don’t know, Charlie.” Dean got out. She offered him a comforting look as she placed her hand on his shoulder for just a moment. He swallowed again. “I say I don’t know because I really don’t know what’s happening. Earlier, on our way over here I couldn’t shut up. It was like my mouth didn’t have an off switch and I just kept talking.” He started up the pacing again, but it was less urgent. “And… And it was like I couldn’t  _ breathe  _ when he was looking at me, Charlie. I couldn’t  _ breathe. _ ” 

Charlie’s lips quirked up on one side as her head slightly tilted the other way.  _ Oh, Dean…  _ she thought. “And how did you like cooking for him?” She asked knowingly. He wasn’t able to stop the smile that snuck onto his features then.

“I loved it. I was so worried he was going to hate it and I don’t know why. Cooking is like, the one thing I’m always confident about besides work and I’ve never felt nervous about it. Seriously, what is happening?” He asked, his pacing having slowed to a stop once again in favor of looking at Charlie with worry.

“And,” she continued, ignoring Dean’s repeated question for a little bit longer, “what did you think when he walked into the kitchen? You know, after he got a little more… comfortable?” She did everything she could to dampen the cheeky grin threatening to overtake her mouth. She needed to simply help Dean to his own conclusion, not scare him away from it.

Dean groaned then, leaning back to cover his eyes with balled up fists. “I don’t know, Charlie, I  _ couldn’t  _ think. It was like my brain stopped working. Like I was running on internet Explorer for Christ’s sake. He was so beat up and-”

“And he looked good.” She finished for him. Dean stopped abruptly at her interjection and swallowed hard. He held her gaze for a moment before dropping it to the floor.

“...Yeah.” He agreed after a chunk of time was spent mulling it over in his head. “Yeah, he looked good. He looks good.” He finished, quieter. “I just… I don’t know. I can’t think about this right now. I’ve got to work in the morning, so I should probably be heading home. Sorry about all this.” He huffed, mood having shifted from the easy-going conversation to grumbly irritation in a flash. Charlie could see right through his defenses and simply offered a soft smile his way, unmoving as she watched him walk around the living room attempting to find his shoes.

“You know, Dean, you did have a couple beers earlier. You’re welcome to just stay here tonight. I think I’d feel better if you did.” She kept her eyes on him as his moving about slowed once again. He seemed to be processing her offer and after a long few seconds of silence, he lifted his head up to glance over her way. His eyes held a new storm of emotions and she wasn’t quite sure she should have started this talk in the first place. The last thing she wanted to do was add onto his list of problems right now, but it had seemed like he wanted to talk, so she wasn’t entirely sure why the change happened so suddenly. Then again, this was Dean she was talking to. She held his gaze though, putting a little force behind her offer, showing him that he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. 

Dean let out a breath, one that had seemingly been held in since he lifted his head in the first place. “Alright.” He started, dropping his head. “Yeah, you’re right; I probably shouldn’t be out driving tonight. Thank you.” Charlie watched him struggle to swallow as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry for kind of losing it for a second, there.”

It was clear he wanted to say more, but Charlie knew that they were both tired enough as is and needed to get enough rest before their shifts tomorrow. So, she didn’t say anything in response to his apology, choosing instead to supply a small nod before scampering off to the closet in the hallway to grab the spare pillow and blanket she knew would be hiding in there. When she got back into the living room, Dean was sitting on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

“Dean, whatever it is you’ve got whirring around in that brain of yours right now, it’s going to be okay, I promise.” She touched his shoulder lightly as she dropped the pillow and blanket on the couch next to him. “If you ever decide you want to talk about this more, you know where I am pretty much at all times.” She tried to put a little of a laugh in her words and was happy to see the side of Dean’s mouth quirk up at it. 

“Yeah.” He said softly. “Thank you.” 

Charlie left him then and headed off to her own bedroom. When she had finished changing into her pajamas, she curled up under her covers with a sigh and pulled out her phone, seeing a few messages from Gilda.

**_From: Gilda <3, 12:16 A.M._ **

**_Hey, just made it home! <3_ **

**_From: Gilda <3, 12:22 A.M._ **

**_How’d the talk with Dean go?_ **

She smiled weakly down at her phone and quickly typed out her reply. 

**_To: Gilda <3, 12:27 A.M._ **

**_It went about as expected. I’ll tell you more in the morning, babe. I have GOT to get some sleep haha I love you_ **

She didn’t have to wait very long for the response and smiled down at her phone screen displaying the goodnight and ‘I love you’ from Gilda. Charlie set her phone down on her nightstand and drew her covers in close over her body, willing herself to warm up. She thought about Dean and what he was going through. She thought about Cas and what he could have possibly gone through. And as she closed her eyes, she sent out a silent prayer to no one in particular that come what may, they would both be okay. By the time sleep took her, she was sure of it. They would both be okay because she’d be there to be sure of it.

***

In the other room, Dean struggled to fall asleep. Charlie’s words kept swirling through his head and he just couldn’t fully make sense of them no matter how many times he replayed them. After another round of pacing the room and eventually grabbing a glass of water, he was back on the couch with the covers draped over his chest. His heart ached about as much as his back had from the long drive he took just days ago. He thought about everything that happened over the past two days and he couldn’t decelerate his racing mind.

He had told Charlie a little about what he had been struggling with since meeting Cas, but everything she had said was just making him question himself further. He knew he liked Cas, but he wasn’t sure in what capacity. He knew he liked him as a friend, that much he was sure of, the guy was interesting as all Hell and he practically hung on every word he said. But when he told Charlie about his inability to stop talking and about the not being able to breathe around him sometimes and then she went ahead and mentioned how damn  _ good  _ the guy looked basically shirtless and all roughed up and Dean couldn’t keep thinking about it anymore. It was already weird enough that he liked Cas so much after only two days, but the possibility that he could like Cas as anything other than a friend was far too overwhelming. He just couldn’t shut his brain off.

So, he decided to step outside to clear his head. When the door quietly closed behind him, he stepped carefully down the concrete stairs and out onto the grass. Feet crunching over dying blades, he walked over to the edge of the yard. With no trees around to block his view, he laid out under the stars. Looking up, he shivered, a little annoyed at himself for forgetting a jacket but somewhat welcoming the cold nonetheless. The stars looked calm tonight, no incoming storms to block the view. They shined brightly overhead and he glanced between them. The calm of the still night air seeped through him, doing its best to quiet his mind like it always had. This kind of silence would be eerie to most, but Dean couldn’t count the number of nights he spent outside to avoid the troubles inside his home. 

He smiled up at the stars, closing his eyes briefly as a soft breeze whipped over him. He shivered again and wondered if he should just go back inside, the warm blanket waiting for him, carelessly draped over the back of the couch as he laid out on the grass. The blades poked through his thin shirt and nudged him to retreat back indoors. Instead, he tucked his hands under his head and let out a breath, watching as the visible puff of air floated away from his lips and up into the cold of the night. 

He let his mind think just a little bit more now that he was in the familiar comfort. He thought his questions to the trees, to the stars, to the houses whose lights were all already turned off. He wondered how he could like someone so easily and so quickly. The night responded with another cold whip of wind.  _ There is no reason; sometimes, good things just happen.  _ He wondered about what Charlie had said. He wondered if he could be attracted to Cas or if he was just overthinking things. The buzzing of nighttime frogs from far in the distance replied this time.  _ That’s up to you.  _ They said. He wondered what happened to Cas. Who could have possibly hurt him. If he was going to be able to help him; protect him. Leaves rustled around him, creaky branches talking back.  _ Be there for him. He may need you. You may need him.  _ They advised. He wondered if he had been too harsh with Charlie. If he should have let her keep going. If maybe she had a point and maybe he wouldn’t be out here still freaking out if he had just heard her out. A streetlamp a few streets over sputtered out and died as a reply.  _ Make it up to her. Let her help.  _ It suggested. 

He took a shaky breath and thought that maybe the dying streetlight was right. He sat up stiffly, body aching more than before. After everything had been said, Charlie still told him everything was going to be okay. She had handed him the covers and told him it would be okay. She had always been there for him that way, listening when no one else would and caring when no one else did. She was there whether he deserved it or not and right now, he didn’t much feel like he deserved it. She was there for him more than his own family had ever been and if there was ever anyone he should listen to, it was her.

Dean pulled his frigid body off of the ground then and plodded back over to the front door. He said a silent thanks to the empty nighttime air and opened the door as carefully as possible. He shut it behind him, deafening the  _ click!  _ as much as he could. He stepped carefully over to the couch and settled under the soft blanket. His head rested against the pillow and he let out another soft breath, no longer able to see the proof from his lungs in the air.

No matter what, it was going to be okay. Charlie had said so and she had never lied to him. So, everything was going to be okay. They would be here for Cas and help him where he needed it and Dean would sort out his crap on his own time. Eventually, in spite of the endless thoughts whirring about in his head, Dean was able to drift off to sleep.

This time, he only dreamed of Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, of course  
> Dean is so silly, I swear, but I can't have him entirely fixing himself so soon, now can I?   
> Also, the meatballs were based n my family's recipe, which is 100% the BEST and I may add the recipe in a note here if people are interested! ^-^  
> Until next week, lovelies! <3


	5. New Belongings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! Sorry for not posting yesterday, but it was Christmas so I was a little busy! Speaking of, I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays! Here's a little late chapter <3

The wonderful smell of bacon was what finally pulled Castiel from his slumber. Eyes struggled to open, but his stomach urged him to wake. He brought his fists up and rubbed at his eyes to clear them. Once he was able to see, his vision drifted over to the clock that was hanging on the wall. It was only 8 in the morning, but for the first time in a long time he actually felt rested. Pushing aside the covers, Castiel swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted them firmly on the ground.

Suddenly, he realized he couldn’t remember making it to bed the night before. After thinking it over though, he decided to just go ahead and assume he must have walked there after the movie ended and that he must have not been entirely awake at the time. It would make the most sense, after all. 

Castiel stood up with a yawn, stretching out as much as his damaged body would allow. His ribcage ached and the pressure of the bandages hadn’t eased up overnight. He looked in the mirror and saw the shirt he had on had gotten lost along the way too. When he glanced at the bed and saw it hanging over the side though, it was another thing chalked up to being too tired to remember doing. He took in a deep breath for a sigh and was instantly reminded of the delicious smell that had been the reason for his early rising. The smell wafted by his nose and if he didn’t have such self restraint, he likely would have started drooling. Instead, he walked out of the bedroom and straight to the kitchen.

Reaching the doorway, Castiel was surprised to see that it was Dean who was cooking again. He hadn’t known that he even stayed over last night and he was suddenly very aware that he hadn’t put his shirt back on before coming to the kitchen. Without his sort of ‘safety blanket’ to pull closed, he would have a lot more than the bandages to hide, so as quietly as he could, he stepped back to his room and threw it around his shoulders. He shivered as the soft fabric caressed his skin but didn’t allow himself to fuss over how it rested on his arms. He hurried back to the kitchen in case Dean had heard him walking about, but when he returned to his spot in the doorway, Dean was still facing the stove just as before. Castiel breathed a silent sigh of relief and plodded in carefully.

“Um, good morning, Dean.” he managed after quietly clearing his throat. Dean half-turned around, hand still on the handle of the pan, and smiled.

“Mornin’, Cas. You sleep well?” He had already turned back to the pan when he asked this and Castiel was thankful for that. If Dean had been looking, he was sure he would have seen the heat he felt in his cheeks.

“I did, actually. Colour me pleasantly surprised.” As he spoke, a soft grin snuck up on his lips. “I see you ended up staying over as well. How did you sleep?” Castiel figured it was only fair to return the question as he pulled out the seat by the island he had been sitting at last night.

“Yeah, it was pretty alright for sleepin’ on the couch.” He shrugged, scooping the last of the bacon off of the pan and onto the paper towel covered plate. He slid the plate away a little and started scooping something else onto a new, not so greasy pan. “Hope you’re hungry.” Castiel could practically hear the smile in his voice now. He crossed his arms on the counter and leaned onto them as he let himself smile in return.

“You didn’t have to cook again, Dean.” He chided playfully before adding, “But thank you.” Dean looked over his shoulder again and his smile was so beautiful Castiel could hardly breathe. If you had told him then that it was the sun that brought light to the Earth, he wouldn’t have believed you. 

“Don’t worry about it, Cas. I like cooking. Plus, I’m sure Charlie will be glad not to have to make food before work for once.” He laughed.  _ Oh, right. They’re both going to have to go to work today.  _ Castiel tried not to look as downhearted as he felt. 

“When do you have to be in?” Castiel struggled to simply sound curious.

“By 9. Still got about half an hour before I’ve gotta hightail it out of here. Breakfast is almost ready though, so I’m good on time.” The honey of Dean’s voice seemed to be doing its part in making Castiel feel better. Listening to Dean was more comforting than any home he’s ever had. So with a grin, Castiel rested his chin on his palm and just watched Dean as he cooked.

Right as Dean pulled the final pancake off of the pan, as if she had been summoned, Charlie walked into the kitchen. She seemed very awake despite still being in her pajamas. Her bright eyes lit up as she saw the two of them already in the kitchen.

“Right on time. Grab a plate.” Dean smiled their way. His eyes lingered on Charlie, sending her some sort of silent message Castiel couldn’t understand. When he turned to Charlie, she had a soft look in her eyes and half of her mouth was upturned in a smile. They seemed to agree on whatever they were saying and she made her way over to the food. Castiel got up too and they each piled their dishes with pancakes and bacon, Castiel adding his syrup liberally onto his plate. That had earned him a laugh from Dean.

That sat in a comfortable silence as they all devoured the breakfast Dean had prepared. Dean finished his plate first, heading over to quickly wash his dish in the sink before grabbing the pans and washing them too.

“Thanks, Dean.” Charlie piped up as she finished off her own plate. Dean swiped it from the table and started rinsing off the sticky syrup. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle in a hug. Castiel tried not to picture himself doing that to Dean. The image was too enticing. Charlie said something to Dean that Castiel couldn’t quite hear, but suddenly Dean turned around, that lovely bright grin on his lips, and wrapped his wet arms around her, lifting her from the ground and giving her a spin. Again, Castiel tried not to be jealous. She was giggling up a storm by the time he put her down and they both were grinning so much that there was no way Castiel could stop himself from doing the same despite not knowing the reasoning behind it all. It had been such a simple display of affection that Castiel found himself hoping Dean was like that with all of his friends.

“So, Cas, what are you going to do today?” Dean asked, moving away from Charlie and back towards the dishes. Charlie grinned to herself and walked out of the kitchen, giving a small pat onto Castiel’s hand as she passed. 

Castiel hadn’t actually thought about that yet. He had a place to stay; had gotten a good night’s sleep and a full meal. Yet, he still had nothing and nowhere to go. 

“I am… not sure. I honestly didn’t think I would get this far.” He said, trying not to sound so doom and gloom but wanting to speak the truth. 

“Yeah…” Dean said, placing the final cleaned dish in the rack to dry before wiping his hands off on the small towel that hung from the door of the oven. “Well, if you want, I can bring by some clothes for you after work and maybe we can go get you a phone. You know, that way you can text me if you’re bored.” He said it with such a grin that Castiel’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight of it. 

“That sounds great.” He said instantly, quickly adding, “Thank you.” as to hopefully not seem so suspicious. Dean’s smile only grew.

“Great!” He said with a clap of his hands, “Well, I work until 5 so I probably won’t be by until like, 6, but it’ll be fun.” Dean spoke excitedly and Castiel felt it himself just by listening. He was practically buzzing already. He was secretly enlivened by the idea of getting some of Dean’s clothes, but he was also thrilled to go somewhere with him. Plus, the idea of getting a new phone was comforting. He wasn’t sure yet if he was going to try to contact anyone he knew; Balthazar and Gabriel were likely the only people who would even care where he was, but with them in the dark about him too, he was safer. They were safer. He figures he will take a significant amount of time today thinking it over and when he lifts his eyes to meet the captivating green of Dean’s, he’s not so sure he’ll get any thinking done today.

“I look forward to it.” Castiel said simply, not giving away all he had just been thinking. “I will pay you back for the phone as well. I do not want to appear to be a mooch.”

Dean chuckled at that and leaned against the other side of the island. “Neither of us see you as a moocher, Cas, so don’t worry about that. If it’ll make you feel better, you can pay me back, but only after we get you all squared up at Bobby’s” He rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes as he said that. 

“Yes, I do suppose paying your boss would be first priority.” Castiel joked. 

“Nah, Cas, your first priority is healing up, okay? You can’t do like,  _ anything _ with broken ribs if you want to do any real sort of healing. So just worry about all that later, huh?” 

Dean smiled then walked the path Charlie had just a minute before, patting his hand the same way she did. Castiel noticed the endearing way the friends mimicked each other and he smiled down at the lingering feeling of Dean’s hand on his. It was nice, being here. They had so readily welcomed him in and he was already feeling like Lawrence could be a nice place to live. Maybe after he finds a job, he can look into getting a place of his own here. Maybe.

Castiel scooted the chair back and brought his own dish to the sink to wash it. He was glad that he ate slow enough that Dean wasn’t able to do this for him as well. Despite what the doctor (and Dean) said, he was given a chance with them and he was going to do what he can to make it up to Dean and Charlie. Unfortunately for him and his hopefulness for easy solutions, Charlie’s house seemed pretty clean already, so with no big clean to do today, keeping up on these things is where he would start. After the dish was cleaned and with the rest of them in the drying rack beside the sink, he walked out into the living room to see Dean lacing up his boots near the door. It took great strength for Castiel not to go over there and wrap his arms around him before he left.

“Alright! Later, Charmander!” Dean called, earning himself a muffled ‘goodbye’ yelled from another room. “Later, Cas.” Dean said softer, looking directly over at Castiel. The look on his face was so tender that Castiel forgot to breathe. The light smile and faint crinkles by his eyes made his chest flutter. His heart raced and his throat ran dry.

“Goodbye, Dean.” He managed to wrangle the words out of his throat and Dean’s face lit up even more before he ducked out of the door. When it shut behind him the room finally opened up and allowed him to breathe. He leaned back against the wall as he realized just how well and truly  _ fucked  _ he is. His breathing came in shallow gasps now as he sunk to the floor.

As soon as Castiel hit the carpet, his head thumped back against the wall. He could still feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest; it felt like it was rising into his throat. All that Dean said was  _ ‘Later, Cas’  _ and suddenly Castiel felt like an ant underneath a 12-year-old’s magnifying glass on a hot Summer day. He struggled to gather himself up off of the floor in a panic when the sound of approaching footsteps jarred his brain closer to working order. Barely on his feet, Charlie rounded the corner, her smile faltering somewhat when she saw his face. 

“You doing alright, Cas?” She asked, approaching him calmly. His face felt flushed, as if he had been a child who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He absolutely did not want her to know what was going through his racing mind. He swallowed hard in spite of his suddenly parched throat.

“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”  _ Fuck. Don’t drag this out!  _ Castiel forced his lips to upturn in a smile and hoped she would buy it. 

“You just look a little red, is all.” She worried, softly placing a hand on his forehead. “You feel really warm too. I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out with me at work today, but I think maybe you should try to get some rest instead.” She looked at him much as his mother used to when he had gotten a cold and he suddenly felt a little guilty. But even if he actually wanted to come with her, he didn’t exactly have the biggest wardrobe of appropriate clothes at the moment. He frowned. 

“Maybe you’re right. I’m sure my body would appreciate it. But, maybe your next shift?” His brows drew together and his mouth quirked up at one side as he tossed the question in at the end. She caught his gaze and returned his smile.

“Sounds good then, Cas.” She nodded and patted his arm as she continued her path back into the kitchen. He could hear the whir of a coffee machine and the creaking of cabinet doors as she shuffled about in there. He couldn’t bring himself to move right away despite his desperate need to retreat back to his room. As the dripping sound of bitter caffeine began in the other room, Charlie walked back out and stopped near him.

“You sure you’re okay?” was all she said, her face displaying her concern. Castiel wet his too dry lips and managed a fake nod. Wearily, she nodded back and continued on to her room as she waited for her coffee to brew. 

As soon as she was beyond his vision, he let out a breath and went to sit on the couch instead of the floor. He badly wished he could hide until she was gone to avoid further questions, but he didn’t want her to have to yell a goodbye or come to his room to say it either. He would have plenty of time to sit in his room today, so he could handle a little waiting on the couch. Pressed into the cushions and basically waiting for her to go, the tug of the bandages over his chest made him itch and reminded him he couldn’t even enjoy a simple shower today due to the stitches. 

The dripping from the kitchen slowed to a stop and he turned in his seat quickly enough to see Charlie sprint past him. She had changed from her pajamas into comfortable looking clothes that swayed behind her as she banked around the corner. The scramble continued past his field of view; fridge door clinked from the bottles inside as it was haphazardly thrown open, glass containers, one of them no doubt holding the sugar, clambered on the countertop. The telltale  _ clink!  _ of a used spoon abandoned in the sink sounded off mere seconds before Charlie briskly walked out of the room, tailored drink in hand.

“Cas! Would you hold this for a second? I’ve got to find my shoes before I’m late!” She spoke hurriedly and pressed the warm mug into his palms. He didn’t even have time to respond before she spun around and bolted back to her room. Her absence was anything but silent as the cluttering of her room commenced. Surprisingly, she managed to find her shoes in decent time and was soon back out and scrambling to remove the mug from Castiel’s hands.

“Thank you, Cas. I hope you won’t be too bored here today; feel free to put on anything you like! Have a good day-bye!” Her words were rushed as she ushered herself out the door. Castiel barely managed a ‘goodbye, Charlie’ of his own before she was gone.

The abrupt silence should have been overwhelming, but Castiel was comforted by it. This morning had been hectic and soft, ear buzzing silence had never been unsettling to him. He released the breath in his lungs before making his way back to his room. 

Throughout the day, Castiel drifted between the living room and his bedroom, only making it into the kitchen twice- once for a tall glass of water and again for some of the leftovers around midday. Dean’s cooking was just as good reheated and he fought off the flutters in his stomach as he ate. Never once did he turn on the television, knowing that watching alone was far less fun than viewings with Charlie and Dean. Instead, he paced and he thought.

His mind wandered into many topics, bouncing around from what Dean could bring him later to his brother and Balthazar, from what kind of phone he would get to how long until he could start looking for a job. He didn’t however, let himself think too deeply about Dean and whatever happened to himself this morning. He couldn’t allow himself to truly think of him that way; Castiel would never be able to go anywhere with it. If by some miracle, Dean ever liked him, Castiel knows he is too much- too much trouble, too much baggage- to ever handle another relationship. So, he doesn’t let himself dwell on how hard his heart pounded in his chest, he doesn’t feel the lingering touch of Dean’s hand on his, and he certainly doesn’t let himself wonder what he would feel like under his fingertips. Castiel also doesn’t think about what brought him here. He pointedly ignores the burning in the back of his mind that tells him he’s not out of the woods yet. He doesn’t address the nagging thought that they could still find him here and maybe they would do worse than just kill him. He leaves all of those badgering thoughts in a neat little box to be sifted through later.

Castiel does come to one conclusion in all his thinking, though. He decides that he will call Gabe at some point and wait to get a verdict from him before getting in touch with Balthazar. Balthazar was great, but he doesn’t exactly know when to keep his mouth shut, so Castiel isn’t convinced talking to him is a good idea despite how much he misses him. Either way, Gabe is the only one he can talk to, so whether it’s right away or in a few weeks or months or whenever the Hell he becomes less paranoid, Castiel agrees with himself that calling him is a good idea. 

That is the extent to which his life planning gets before the creak of the front door demanded his attention. He stiffened in his place on his bed, ears prickling as a fight-or-flight level of heat rushed into his chest. 

“Cas?” the honey whiskey voice drifted through the house and put out the panic like water on a flame. He pulled the covers off of his legs and walked out of the room to greet him. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel responded, walking down the hall and into Dean’s line of sight. Dean grinned widely when he saw him and this time Castiel successfully ignored the burning of his cheeks. 

“Hey, buddy, hope you weren’t too bored today. I- what’s that?” The abrupt change took Castiel off guard and he blinked back, confused. He followed Dean’s pointed finger to his arm, suddenly realizing that at some point in his pacing about during the day, his shirt must have gotten lost again and the fierce heat in his cheeks feels like it’s going to suffocate him. He tried to appear nonchalant, twisting his arm to look at what Dean had been preoccupied with as if he didn’t know what was there.

“Dude, do you have a tattoo?” Dean asked, hand raised as if to grab ahold of Castiel’s arm and spin him for a better look. Instinct told him to pull his arm away, move away fast so he wouldn’t see it, but the warm grasp of Dean’s fingers around his wrist quelled his protests and his arm turned in Dean’s calloused hand. He closed his eyes and turned his head away.

“Feathers? Wait-” He started to turn Castiel a bit more and he was almost able to come back to himself in time to stop him. Unfortunately, his return to his body was too slow; Dean sees.

“Wings…” Dean softens, mouth agape and fingers itching to touch the ink in his skin. Castiel swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut, silently begging for Dean to only comment on the tattoo and nothing else. He prayed that Dean wouldn't notice. Fingertips traced over the swell of ink, following from the middle of his back above the bandages strung around his chest to the tips of the wings near his elbow. He traced and retraced the edges of the feathers, the ghost of fingerprints left in their wake. A breath hitched in Castiel’s throat, choked off to either stop him from speaking or to keep him from crying. All the while Dean traced the feathers etched into his skin, Castiel could feel him running over the raised bits hidden by the ink.

“Cas…?” The words sounded strangled coming out of Dean’s mouth, like he’s burning to ask him something but couldn’t give it a voice. This brought Castiel back to himself, finally seeing in first person again as if this whole time he had been playing himself in some sort of game. He pulled his arm out of Dean’s hand and stepped back, turning to keep his back from Dean’s merciless gaze. He wanted to swallow, but his mouth was so dry it wouldn't help.

“Don’t.” Is all he managed, eyes meeting Dean’s in a silent plea to leave it alone. Dean’s eyes were soft, concerned, curious, and Castiel couldn't stand how much it resembled pity. Castiel shook his head to strengthen his warning and Dean dropped his eyes. He seemed to search the floor for something, scanning around for something dropped or lost or maybe for a way to backtrack. He opened his mouth and waited, as if his mouth was going to filter out his jumbled thoughts for him. It took him a moment and Castiel was unable to do anything but wait. He wanted to run back to his room to put the shirt back on, maybe blurt out a question about what Dean brought him to change the subject, but he was just as incapable of speaking as Dean appeared to be.

“Sorry.” Dean spoke suddenly, demanding Castiel’s attention again. His face was harder now, like he had come to some conclusion Castiel was unaware of. Castiel looked over his face; the apparent pity was gone, no trace of the puppy dog eyes he had just received. Dean cleared his throat and turned the edges of his mouth up.

“So, uh, you still want those clothes?” Somehow, though Castiel would be hard pressed to figure it out, Dean put an easy grin on his face, one that inflicted itself in his voice and could be seen by his eyes to be real. He wondered how he does that; switch away from hard topics, from pain, from uncomfortable situations back to friendly and normal conversation. Though it should have felt disingenuous, it was abrupt enough to startle Castiel into talking.

“Uh, yes.” He answered back easily enough, surprising even himself. His fingers were shaking, but the tremble in his voice was already subsiding and Castiel wanted to rejoice over his newfound composure, even if it was directly issued from Dean. 

“Great! I’ll grab some stuff and be right back. After you change we can go get your phone, if you’re still up for that?” Castiel could tell that was his way of testing the waters, gauging if he had gone too far without addressing what happened. Again, Castiel found himself grateful. 

“Yes, thank you.” He replied, a small hint of a smile sneaking on his lips without his permission. He watched as Dean nodded and slipped back out the front door once more. Castiel considered covering up while he was gone, but since he had already seen enough, there wasn’t much of a point when he would have to change when Dean came back in. So, he stayed in the spot Dean had left him in, bare feet planted firmly on the plush carpet. Castiel refused to linger on it; he didn’t want to think about explaining anything to Dean right now. He didn’t want to open up old wounds he had already covered up and he didn’t want to see that look on Dean’s face again-not yet. Maybe someday he would be able to talk about it, tell Dean about what he saw and explain as if the story wasn’t his own, but he couldn’t do that yet and he knew it. For now, Castiel was simply thankful Dean had dropped it like he asked and he couldn’t ask for more than that.

The door squeaked open again and Dean stumbled back inside with arms full. He had quite a few articles of clothing in his hand and it was all Castiel could do to gape. When Dean peeked around from behind the clothes, a wide grin plastered on his face, he felt the familiar and unwelcome heat in his cheeks again.

“Got quite a selection here.” Dean laughed, motioning with his head towards Castiel’s room. Castiel started to lead the way, hearing Dean’s hushed footsteps following behind him. 

“Most of this is mine, but a couple are Sammy’s. He left some stuff that was too small for him when he moved, so it’s all yours, Cas.” Dean dropped the pile onto the bed unceremoniously, the small tower tipping over after it landed and spreading out over the bed. 

“Sam is your brother?” Castiel inquired, remembering Charlie’s mention of him the day they met as he picked through the clothes pillowed on the mattress, quickly finding one that looked comfortable enough to throw over the tight bandages. He let out a quiet sigh of relief now that his back was out of view again and he turned towards Dean.

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice was quiet and his eyes looked far away but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “Kid just went off to Stanford, if you can believe it.” He huffed out a laugh and looked to his feet, shaking his head.

“You’re proud of him.” Castiel stated. It wasn’t a question, he could see it in the wistful look on Dean’s face. It was a simple truth he could have read from miles away. 

“Yeah, he’s a good kid.” And Dean left it at that. Castiel could feel that he wanted to talk about his brother more, but he didn’t want to push him into sharing anything he didn’t want to, so he dropped it. 

“Um, well just give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go.” Said Castiel, holding up one of the pairs of jeans that had been discarded with the shirts. He thought he saw a blush on Dean’s cheeks, but it was gone so fast he was convinced he imagined it.

“Yeah, sure, take your time, Cas. I’ll be in the living room and when you’re ready we can head out.” He talked so easily, slipping out the door and closing it behind him as soon as he was done, giving Castiel no time to respond which, if he was being honest, was probably a good thing.

Castiel took a moment to right himself; took in a few deep breaths and forced his worries to the back of his mind. Dean had dropped the tattoo and never even mentioned the scars it covered. He had backed off and didn’t push any more after Castiel told him to stop. He mentioned his brother, who was very far away at the moment, and gave him clothes to get him started. All in all, it could have been much worse, and Castiel found himself to be very grateful for the kind man Dean seemed to be. With a smile, Castiel shrugged off his slacks and slipped into the jeans. They were worn, old. No tears yet but with a little more use there would surely be holes in the knees. They were a little tight too, hugging him close around his thighs and hips. Luckily, they weren’t so tight as to be uncomfortable, so he buttoned and zipped them up easily. 

All dressed, Castiel opened the door and strolled out to meet Dean where he waited in the living room. He was sitting on the couch with his back facing the hallway he was coming from, but he must have heard Castiel’s footsteps approaching as he turned around to meet him.

He tried not to focus on the way Dean’s eyes scraped over his body. He refused to take note of the soft pink hue on Dean’s cheeks or the way his tongue darted out to wet his parted lips. Castiel’s ears burned as he walked past the couch and leaned down to pick up his discarded footwear.

He slipped on his shoes, struggling to ignore the feeling of Dean’s eyes on him, and then they were ready to go. He followed Dean out to his car and couldn’t help taking a moment to take in the sight of it again. It was a beautiful beast of a car and he felt incredibly lucky to get to sit in the front seat. They climbed in, Dean taking a moment to switch out the tape in the deck, mumbling something about ‘driver picks the music…’ that Castiel wasn’t quite sure he heard all of correctly, then they pulled out of Charlie's place and headed for the mall.

The mall was quaint, if you could call it that. Not too large with a decent array of stores; nothing out of the ordinary. There were name brand clothing stores, shoe stores, gaming stores and quite a few food options. The smells wafting through the cavernous halls connecting the businesses was enough to make Castiel’s stomach rumble. It had made Dean laugh and promise they could grab dinner there when they finished up. Castiel nodded eagerly in response to that, thankful he wasn’t going to have to beg but blushing at the thought of it.

Their first stop in the mall was to the cell phone kiosk at the other end of the long hallway. Dean talked with the man stationed there, going over the many options available and discussing plans. Castiel chimed in that he wanted to be able to pay for the plan himself, so they managed to work out getting a decent phone, one that was usually only offered with an expensive plan from some specific phone company but offered ‘special’ for him without it, and a prepaid plan that Castiel could easily keep track of. Dean had insisted on being sure it had unlimited texting, then he pushed to get Castiel a case for the phone as well. All in all, it was a successful purchase, and Castiel walked away from the kiosk with a new phone in hand and a grin on his lips. As they walked, he tried to start programming it, unaware of Dean’s watchful gaze on him.

He wasn’t paying attention as Dean steered them into some clothing shop until he almost ran straight into a mannequin. 

“Sorr-” he started, stopping only when he realized it wasn’t a real person he ran into. Dean laughed at him and Castiel set him with a grumpy glare.

“It’s not funny, Dean.” He grumbled, continuing on into the store, Dean now trailing behind him.

“It was kinda funny.” He shrugged, pushing Castiel lightly on the shoulder and earning himself another glare. 

“What are we doing in here anyway? I thought we were just getting the phone; you already gave me clothes.” Castiel squinted and tilted his head at Dean. Dean had a sheepish smile on his lips as he refused to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“Yeah, I gave you clothes but, uh, no offence Cas, but I’m not giving you hand-me-down underwear. I’m just not.” He laughed, short and lighthearted and it made Castiel’s cheeks heat up fiercely.  _ Of course  _ he wasn’t going to give him underwear. Castiel hadn’t even thought about needing new ones since he hadn’t been able to shower yet, but somehow Dean was thinking of everything.

“Oh, yes. Makes sense, thank you.” He said softly, tearing his eyes away from Dean’s and starting up the walk towards the section they needed. He didn’t browse, choosing the first packs of briefs and socks he found and quickly walking to the counter. Dean walked in step with him, making no further comments for which Castiel was thankful. They made the purchase and exited the store, returning to the lovely food smell that filled the large, open hall. His stomach involuntarily grumbled once more and Dean laughed again. He wasn’t sure how his hunger was amusing, but after having recovered from the embarrassment of the underwear situation, he was all too happy to just be seeing him smile. 

Dean walked in the lead now, Castiel only a small step behind him as they made their way to the food court in the center of the mall. Seeing it now in all its glory, Castiel glanced around between the various options packing into the room. There was pizza and Chinese food and a few chain restaurants Castiel hadn’t had in a long while. He bounced his gaze between the options, gauging the pros and cons of each in his head.

“So, what are you thinking, Cas?” Dean asked as they came to a halt in the middle of the room. He was looking around too, weighing the options laid out in front of them for himself. 

“Pizza sounds okay, but I feel like cinnamon rolls may be better.” It was dinner time, but the sweet aroma coming from the Cinnabon was taking all of Castiel’s attention and he was quite suddenly convinced breakfast for dinner was the way to go.

“Ah, I see you’re a man of culture.” Dean laughed, hooking his arm in Castiel’s and pulling him towards the Cinnabon. Castiel tried not to think about the touch too much or it would drive him crazy. He could feel the warmth of Dean’s arm around his and the ball of nerves in his stomach was making sure Castiel could feel it. It was almost like holding hands, so close to it in fact that Castiel spared a few stolen glances around the room to be sure no one really noticed what they were doing. Dean's hand left his arm when they stepped in front of the menu and suddenly Castiel could breathe again. He hadn’t even been aware of the breath trapped in his lungs until it was able to make its daring escape. He tried to boot it all from his mind as he read over the options.

“Get whatever you want, Cas.” Dean offered. Castiel looked up at him and nodded, hoping that the heat in his face wasn’t as visible as it felt. 

He landed on his order and after placing it, Dean made it two and ordered the same thing. They didn’t have to wait too long on the cinnamon rolls and iced coffees and within a few minutes, they were carrying the extra large rolls back to a small table in the middle of the room. The cinnamon roll was huge, much larger than any one Castiel had ever made and he hoped he would be able to finish it. 

They didn’t talk much as they ate, a few comments about the rolls here or there, a sip or two of the sweet mocha drinks they got to wash down large bites. Castiel was surprised when they both had empty boxes to throw away.

“Man, that was good. Nice picking, Cas.” Dean leaned back in the not so comfortable metal dining chair and stretched up to the ceiling. A bit of his belly peeked out from the bottom of his shirt and it took great effort on Castiel’s part not to stare. He swallowed a few gulps of the coffee and cleared his throat.

“Yes, it was very tasty. Thank you, Dean.” 

Dean deflated from his stretch with a laugh and a smile. “You don’t have to keep thanking me, Cas. It’s no big deal.”

“Well, you’ve done a lot for me, especially today. So, thank you.” Castiel reiterated his point. He wanted to be sure that Dean knew how much all of this meant to him, to be sure he knew he appreciated every single thing he had done to help him.

Dean huffed a laugh and tilted his head as he looked away, taking a sip through the straw of his drink. He didn’t respond but Castiel was sure he got the point. They sat for another few minutes, letting the heavy food settle in their stomachs before they cleaned up their table and headed out of the mall.

It was a short walk out to the car and despite Castiel’s objections, Dean carried the bag out to the vehicle. He placed it at Castiel’s feet anyway and they took off back to Charlie’s place. Again, the ride was short, but it felt shorter than before. It wasn’t long before the gravel of her driveway was crunching underneath the Impala’s tires. Charlie’s car was in the driveway now, and Dean smiled brightly when he turned off the car.

Dean followed as Castiel got out of the Impala and headed up to the front steps. The door was locked, and Castiel found himself without a key, so they had to knock and hope Charlie wasn’t otherwise occupied inside. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long until the front door swung open.

“Hey! Was wondering where you went, Cas. Looks like Dean kidnapped you, huh?” She joked, opening the door wide enough to let them file inside. 

“Dean was kind enough to get me set up with a phone today.” Castiel stated, removing his shoes in the doorway and placing them on the small shoe tray that was placed near the entrance. Dean followed suit with his own shoes.

“Well you needed one. Speaking of, hand it over.” Dean held out his hand as he regained balance from the removal of his footwear. Castiel conceded and passed over the device. Dean swiped through some screens and pressed quite a few buttons before he seemed satisfied enough to hand it back over to Castiel.

“Oh, me next!” called Charlie, intercepting the phone during the handoff. She seemed to do the same amount of button pressing that Dean had before and after a moment, returned the phone to Castiel’s still outstretched hands. When it was safely nestled in his palms again, he opened up the screen to see what they had done. It pinged in his hand, once then twice, as text messages popped up on the screen. One was from ‘My Queen’ saying ‘Your majesty graces you with her phone number!’. Charlie was grinning as he read it and if it wasn’t obvious before that it was from her, then it was obvious now. The other message was from ‘My Saviour’ which read ‘this is a test. A test text. A tesxt.’. He blushed at the name Dean must have given to himself, but saw it was fitting enough to keep. Dean was his saviour in a way. He had been the one with him when he stumbled into the garage, beaten and torn. He had checked on him at the hospital, introduced him to Charlie and got him set up with a place to stay. He clothed him and fed him and now he had paid for a phone as well. Yes, the name was fitting, and Castiel decided the title would remain in his contacts.

He smiled down as his new phone, then back up at the two of them. “I promise to be a quick responder.” He stated, earning himself laughter from the two. 

When the laughter died down, Dean was the next to interject. “I can’t stay long, work in the morning and all, but I figured I’d bring you the rest of this.” He shook the half empty iced coffee cup in his hand towards Charlie and watched as her face lit up, snatching the cup out of his hands and immediately taking a long sip from the straw.

“Yes, this is my favorite! I’ll forgive this not being a full drink just this once as I am feeling generous today, but don’t let it happen again, Handmaiden.” She finished, stealing another big swig from the drink. 

“Handmaiden?” Castiel questioned. Dean looked away and towards the floor.

“Oh! I guess I haven’t told you! I do LARPing twice a month, most of the time Dean comes with if he doesn’t have to pick up an extra shift or something. I am the Queen and Dean here is my lovely Handmaiden.” She poke proudly, prodding at Dean’s ribs. 

“LARP…?” 

“Oh my God. Okay, so LARP means Live Action Roleplay and basically it’s just one big kingdom where we battle and do the good old regular medieval kingdom stuff. It’s a lot of fun. You should come with us next time!” She paused, looking him over. “Okay, maybe not next time. Maybe when you’re free of all those bandages.” 

Castiel glanced over at Dean to gauge his interest in him tagging along, and when he looked over, Dean’s eyes had lit up, a wide smile drawing him in. If there was any chance he would have been able to say no, it flew out the window when he saw that smile.

“Alright. Sounds fun.” He agreed, setting off a series of ‘woops!’ from Charlie and beautiful laughs from Dean. He was unable to tear his eyes away from him; his broad shoulders shook with the laugh and his eyes almost held tears and it was all just so stunning.

“Good, then it’s settled! I’ll take you under my wing in my kingdom as soon as you are fit for battle!” 

It took a minute for the laughter to die down, but even in the settling quiet, there was an easy air about the room. Once again Castiel couldn’t help feeling lucky that Dean was who he ran into at the shop. That his friends were so wonderful and that  _ he _ was so wonderful. This second chance was so much more than that, he could tell.

“Alright, I gotta get home. See you guys on Sunday!” Dean called, slipping his shoes back on his feet and making Castiel wonder why he had even taken them off in the first place if he was only coming a few steps past the front door. Dean could be very peculiar, that was for sure.

“See ya, Dean!” Charlie slipped her arms around him in a hug as soon as the shoes were secured to his feet again. He hugged her back and Castiel felt that same pang of jealousy he felt this morning. When they pulled apart, Castiel tried his hardest to appear unaffected, but it seems Dean had picked up on it.

“Well, come here.” Dean spoke with one of those smiles that made Castiel shudder, arms open in an invitation. It took no convincing for Castiel to take the step into Dean’s embrace. Warm, strong arms wrapped around his waist, careful of the bandages encompassing his torso. This close, Castiel could breathe him in and it would be an understatement to say that Dean was intoxicating. When he finally pulled away, he had to force himself to take an extra step back out of fear he would reach for him again. His face felt hot and as much as he wanted to see Dean’s emerald eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to meet them.

“Next week, then.” Dean said, voice lower now and hand on the doorknob.

“Next week.” He confirmed, braving a look up at Dean’s back as he closed the door behind him.  _ Next week.  _ He repeated to himself.

It already felt like the week would be long and it was only seconds after Dean had disappeared from his view. Castiel released a long held sigh.

Charlie looked at him with a sad, somehow knowing expression before heading off to the kitchen to make herself dinner. She didn’t comment, but Castiel was sure she saw how desperate he was to hold on. He padded back to his room, taking a few moments to put away his new (to him) clothes before flopping down on the bed and pulling the covers tightly over his chest. He tried not to think about how much he wished it was Dean with him, but the thoughts couldn’t be filed away.

Castiel set his phone down on the bedside table and closed his eyes. Visions of Dean danced through his head, drowning out his all too usual thoughts of home, and though it wasn’t very late into the evening, sleep came quickly for him. His dreams carried him through the night, and by the time morning came, Castiel was sure he was smitten. 


	6. Harvelle's and Star Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel makes a much needed phone call and gets some good times with Dean :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! So, by now I have fully created my beat sheet for this story and it's just a matter of how long it takes me to get through it! By the looks of it, we're shooting for around 21 or 22 chapters, so we've still got a ways to go yet. You guys are in for it now! Since classes start up again soon, I can't promise there won't be times I'm late posting a chapter, but please know I would never abandon this story; I love it too much. If you're following along with this (thank you SO MUCH btw, you're a champion, a queen/king and I LOVE YOU), but you can get updates about the fic on Tumblr! I post about it occasionally, but if I'm ever going to miss or be late, that's where I'll say so! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ironkissedmage   
> Sorry for the long note, enjoy the new chapter! <3

The week dragged on. Castiel was sure he had never spent so long waiting for time to pass. He had been doing as Dean and his doctor had said and taking it easy for the most part. He had done a few chores around the house, the smaller things Charlie let him get away with and some others she hadn’t been around to tell him not to do. Generally, he kept to himself, but found himself staying out in the living room with her to watch shows more and more often. The day after he saw Dean last, Charlie had asked him if he wanted to watch a show she called Star Trek with her, and with no reasons he could scramble up to decline, he had ended up next to her on the couch for many hours over the course of the last few days. He actually ended up liking the show but he found that he liked being in Charlie’s company more than anything. 

After four long days of waiting around the house doing whatever chores he could get away with while Charlie was away at work and finally being able to shower after the waiting period on the stitches had passed, Castiel found himself sitting in the quiet buzz of his room removing his bandages alone. He had been able to take a peek at the damages again the day before in the shower, but the second he was out, he covered them again, afraid to look at them for too long. Now, he didn’t feel like being bound so tightly as the pressure didn’t feel as though it was helping at all. He didn’t want gauze over the stitches anymore now that he had cleaned the wounds and all seemed to be healing well. He didn’t want to feel caged anymore; he wanted his body back. 

Castiel kneeled on the floor in front of the mirror by his bed and first peeled off his shirt. The stark appearance of the wrappings pressed over tanned skin still took him off guard and he tentatively brushed his fingertips over the material. With hesitant hands, Castiel unraveled the bandages that supported his cracked ribs. They unraveled slowly, falling limply to the floor from his grasp once freed from his torso. The bruising along his flank was finally turning a deep yellow, though it still held some darker hues. He was finally healing and it showed.

Next, he reached up to the gauze still taped above his brow. This one had been significantly smaller than the one on his chest, but he had replaced the bandage like the other all the same. Now, Castiel bit his lip as the stinging pain of the tape peeling back from his skin pulled at him. Finally freed from the covering, he got a good look at his face. His features seemed darkened; it had now been at least two whole weeks since he last shaved. Castiel made a mental note to buy a razor at the store when he and Charlie went tomorrow. He ran his hand down his chin, feeling the prickly scruff he hated. He was used to looking clean, put together, like at any one glance someone would think he had it made. Now he looked unkempt; scraggly beard overgrown on his face, lightened bruises finally diminishing near his eyes, and the deep gash on his forehead sealed closed through visible stitches. 

Castiel took in a shaky breath and continued on. He got his fingers under the tape on his chest and started the process again. The peeling hurt, pulling at the skin the stitches wanted to keep closed. After a brief struggle and a small pause to catch his breath to fight the tears threatening to surface, the bandage pulled free. This time, he took a long look. Eyes graced over the full extent of the wound; it was longer than he remembered it being, and likely deeper than he thought as well, but the stitches had done their job so far and it was clear it was on the path to recovery. There was no longer a harsh redness around it for which Castiel was thankful, but still the stitches seemed foreign and out of place sewn into his skin. 

Taking it all in, he knew just how messed up he looked. New scars to accompany old ones would undoubtedly remain and he tried not to visualize how harshly they would linger. Reminding himself of the debacle of Dean’s last visit, Castiel steeled himself and turned around to get a look at his back. The large tattoo came into view, dark feathers standing out against the plain skin around it. The wings started just beneath the top of his shoulders, extending down to the middle of his back and down his arms, ending just below the elbow. It was quite a large tattoo, but then, there had been quite a lot he had needed to cover. He winced at the dull pain in his ribs as he twisted his body, turning to see it better and to reach behind him to feel for himself. It had been quite some time since Castiel had thought about his tattoo and what it meant. Quite awhile since he had felt the raised skin beneath the ink plastered on him. Delicately as he could manage, he tried retracing the path Dean’s fingers had taken the other day, skirting over the bumps of old scars and the swell of ink. It was odd, revisiting it. He had expected it to hurt more, to bungee him back to that night, but he found he was capable of staying present in his room. He was proud of himself for that; it must have been long enough since now that stepping near that memory no longer caused a knee-jerk reaction, but that wasn’t to say he didn’t still feel the pain. He wished he was able to forget it all, everything they had done to him, but there was no way all those memories could abandon him. 

He faltered, letting his hand slip off of his back to hang loosely by his side, eyes still glued onto the marking scattered under the dark feathers. If he was still, he could practically feel the dull blade again, dancing viciously across his shoulder blades and down his spine. It was faint when thought about now; a faded memory just strong enough. The tears leaked from his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away. He didn’t sob, he was long past that now, but occasionally tears would fall, landing together on his lap. After a moment, he swiped them all away, coating the back of his hand to clear his face. 

The pit in his stomach remained long after the tears were gone, but Castiel managed to rise to his feet. As he stood in front of his reflection, he tried to imagine what the wings etched into his skin would be like if they were real. How big would they be? What colour? Black like the ink or a mixture of hues? There was no way to know, of course; Castiel was not an angel no matter how badly his father had wanted him to be. Still, these wings were  _ his  _ now and he figured if he ever were to become one, that his wings would be beautiful. They may not be huge, he may not fly gracefully with them, but they would be his and that would be enough. He imagined being able to heal his wounds with a thought; what it would be like to not be plagued by scars. How easily he could have flown away from danger or how fiercely he could have fought it.

Sighing, Castiel turned from the mirror and grabbed a shirt and boxers from his closet. He decided to shower again, making his way from his room and down the hall. Though Charlie was still at work and would be for another two hours or so, he still latched the door behind him before he stripped out of the rest of his clothes. The water warmed up quickly and he stepped underneath the hard spray as soon as it reached a bearable temperature. It beat hard on his stomach, not high enough to press on the stitched gash but just right against the bruises painted on his side. It didn’t hurt as badly anymore, so he stayed under the pressure for a long while before finally making himself get clean. He washed his hair, wincing as shampoo was rinsed from his head, flowing over the cut above his brow. He was more careful the next time around with the conditioner. It was less of a struggle to wash his body than it had been the day before, but it still hurt to bend in ways he had been avoiding lately. 

When all the suds had swirled down the drain, Castiel decided to sit. He kept his back under the stream, the pressure lessened nearer to the floor. Even if it was as strong, old wounds don’t hurt the same. He tried not to think, and he tried to think too much. The steady cadence of water beat down on his back, providing a soft sound that filled the room, a static background that forces one to think. He considered the idea of calling Gabe again. He told himself he would, but after the decision had been made, he kind of stopped thinking about it. As if agreeing with himself that it was a good idea was enough. But it wasn’t enough. His brother deserved to know more than anyone. Gabe is just about the only person who had ever looked out for him, so why would this time be any different? 

He shook his lowered head, droplets of water creeping over his features and falling into the collection of water beneath him. It wouldn’t be different. Gabe would want to hear from him. It would be okay to talk to him, maybe even tell him everything that brought him to flee Pontiac, but even getting to hear one word from him was likely to make him feel better. Castiel stood back up, unbending his knees slowly in the rising steam of the shower, careful not to go too quickly as to not get lightheaded. That had happened yesterday and he had nearly fallen. He let the water rinse over him one last time, warming up the areas that had gotten cold from his time on the ground, and switched off the faucet. Water flung from his body as he lightly shook out, getting rid of as much excess water as possible before grabbing the towel slung over the rack on the wall. He toweled off, careful to avoid the stitches, and stepped back into clothes.

It felt weird to have fabric against his chest again and the rub against the stitches was less annoying than he figured it would be. It was still a little bothersome, but nothing compared to the stuffy feeling of being so wrapped up. Once dressed, he retreated back to his bedroom, glancing at the clock when he entered and thankful to see he still had around forty minutes before Charlie even got off.

Castiel pulled his phone out of the nightstand and unlocked the screen. He was surprised to see a message notification displayed there, so before getting to the call, he checked it.. The message was from Dean and there was no way to stifle the small grin from sneaking onto his lips as he read. 

**_From: My Saviour 4:24 P.M._ **

**_Hey, Cas. What are ya up to today?_ **

There was another message sent not long after the first, accompanied by a photo.

**_From: My Saviour 4:39 P.M._ **

**_Shop is slow today so guess what I’m working on?_ **

The photo was displayed beneath the words and Castiel nearly choked on his spit. The picture showed his mangled car, but more importantly, Dean. He was in the forefront of the picture, clearly taken by himself as it was at an odd angle, with the destroyed vehicle in the background. Dean looked tired, he was sweaty and dirty and had likely been working hard all day, and still, he looked gorgeous. Castiel was certain that man could be dressed in a garbage bag and still look attractive. 

With the smile still stuck on his mouth, Castiel typed out a quick reply.

**_To: My Saviour 5:12 P.M._ **

**_I hope it doesn’t become too much of a pain for you, Dean. I appreciate the effort. :)_ **

He felt weird adding the little emoji at the end, but he figured that it was okay because he was actually smiling at the moment. Before he could chicken out via distraction, Castiel dialed the number he had memorized and hit the green button. The ringing started right away and suddenly, a sneaking nervousness filled his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say to Gabe, wasn’t quite sure what he would say back if he ended up telling him what happened. 

Then, the ringing stopped.

“Heyo!”

At the sound of his brother’s voice, his own got caught in his throat. He struggled to swallow, to will any sound from his mouth.

“Uh… Gabe? It’s, um, it’s me-”

“Ha! Just kidding, I’m not at the phone right now, but I sure got you good! Leave a message if it’s important, I guess. I’ll get back to you when I feel like it. Ciao!”

Castiel blinked, stunned. He was sure Gabe had answered, but it was just like him to pull a stunt like that. His mouth ran dry as the automated woman instructed him on how to leave a message. When the beep sounded in his ear, he took a deep breath.

“Uh, Gabe?” He started, “It’s me. It’s, uh, it’s Castiel. I… a lot happened recently. I just… uh, well just call me if you can.” He hung up quickly after that, not wanting to ramble on or spill anything on any kind of recording. His palms were sweaty around the phone and he was in his head enough to only barely feel the buzz of vibration in his hands. 

Weary eyes looked back at the screen, only to see another message from Dean.

**_From: My Saviour 5:16 P.M._ **

**_Ain’t no thing, Cas. Like I said, I love a challenge. ;)_ **

Castiel was sure the emoji of a winking face was on accident. Still, he prepared a response.

**_To: My Saviour 5:17 P.M._ **

**_Still, thank you, Dean. To answer your previous question, I haven’t done much of anything today._ **

He kept his eyes off of the screen after it was sent, waiting for a reply but trying not to will it to come. He wasn’t sure what to talk about, but he wanted to be sure he was ready to respond. He felt the buzz in his palm again, but this time it was longer and repeated. When he looked, it was a call, the familiar number taking up the screen. Hesitantly, he hit the green button once again.

“Hello?” Castiel spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Cassie?” It was Gabe, no doubt, and he sounded stressed.

“Hello, Gabe.” He said the greeting again, wincing to himself over his awkwardness, even to his own brother.

“Cassie, where the Hell did you go? What happened?” He spoke quickly and Castiel was now able to place his tone as fear.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story…” He trailed off.

“Well, are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No!” He answered a little too quickly. “No,” he started again, calmer, “I am somewhere safe right now. I’m… I am recovering so I am as okay as I can be.” He wanted to be honest; he wanted Gabe to know he wasn’t messing around with him either.

“Well can you tell me anything? I heard from Balthy that you never showed up at his place. Then your job called me asking if you were okay because you hadn’t come in and that’s kinda when I knew something was up.” 

Castiel swallowed, throat dry. “I… I don’t exactly want to get into it too much over the phone, if that’s alright.” He could practically feel his brother’s frustration and worry through the phone. “But uh… It wasn’t safe for me there anymore.”

“What wasn’t safe?”

“My place. Pontiac. All of it.”

“Cas, you’ve gotta give me somethin’ here, bro.”

He looked down at his feet as another buzz came through the phone. A short one, likely a message from Dean. Something he wished he could answer right away, but was forced to ignore.

“April.” He said quickly, simply, as if it was all the explanation he needed to give.

And it was enough.

“Oh.” Came Gabe’s tinny voice. “Did… What did she do?” He’s talking a little softer now, a little less frantic.

“She-” He practically choked on the bile taste of his words. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He has lived it, gotten through it much as he’s gotten through the times when he was younger, but he has yet to say it.

“ _ They _ ,” he tried again, willing the bile back down, “almost killed me.” It was as much as he could get out at the moment, the specifics felt like they might drown him. He couldn’t mention it happened again. He couldn’t talk about what they did to him in that house, how they left him out of town assuming he would die out there. He couldn’t put into words what they did to him.

“Damn it, Cassie…” Gabe said it under his breath, but Castiel was still able to hear it. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes, I’m- I’m okay. I’m someplace safe.” He tried to reassure him. “There isn’t really much you can do, but thank you.”

“Cassie… bro, please at least tell me where you are. I don’t have to come get you or anything, just, please.” Castiel could hear the worry in his voice and any resilience he had crumbled faster than the first storey of a building in a strong earthquake.

“I’m in Lawrence, Kansas.” 

“Wha-? How’d you get that far away? Is there a reason you’re there?” The questions started up again, but they were less important, so the worry started to ebb from his bones.

“I took my car. I’m actually only here because I um, I crashed it.” Castiel winced at the sharp exhale that came from the other end of the line.

“You CRASHED too? Cassie, what the Hell? I thought you said you were okay?”

“And I am. Okay, that is. I’m here with... “ He paused, “friends.” Is what he settled on.

“Friends?” 

“New friends, but… but I’m safe, I promise.” He didn’t know what compelled him to promise something like that, but sure enough, he heard a sigh of relief breathed into the phone.

“Okay, then. So you’re in Kansas, but you’re okay. Can I come see you?”

Castiel stilled for a moment, familiar fear creeping into his stomach. He decided to ignore it.

“Maybe, just, not yet. I don’t know when, but I’m sure you can come soon.” He was worried about inviting Gabe over as it’s not his home. It’s not his space to offer up. He doesn’t want to impose on the already astronomical level of hospitality he has been shown. But more than that, he was scared of connecting the dots. He was afraid of her finding him, scared she would find a way to follow Gabe or track him or something. He couldn’t endanger Charlie and Dean; he wouldn’t do it. Maybe there would come a time when he worries less, when he is less convinced she’s still out to get him. 

“Alright.” Gabe cut into his thoughts. “Alright, just… please keep in touch. I’m glad you’re okay, Cassie. Thanks for calling me.” 

Castiel nodded until he realized Gabe couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, thanks for answering.” He replied, a shaky laugh accompanying his words.

“Always will.” 

Silence filled the call, neither wanting to hang up, but neither having more to say. Castiel took a weak breath and decided he needed a break anyway. 

“I’ve got to go.” He spoke quickly, voice barely above a whisper. “But can I call again soon?”

He could practically hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “Of course. You can always call me. But you had better not just disappear like that on me again, you hear me?”

Castiel managed a laugh. “I hear you. Talk to you soon.”

“Later, bro.”

There was a second where neither hung up, but then Castiel heard the disconnect sound and pulled the phone away from his ear. He looked down at it, a strange feeling pooling in his chest. It felt good, but it was also scary. He missed his brother, but was just as worried for him as he was for himself and Dean and Charlie. All he could do now was hope he hadn’t just put his brother in even more danger. 

The screen timed out, going dark in his fist. Then, a small light blinked from the corner. Dean. Again, he unlocked his phone and pulled up his messages.

**_From: My Saviour 5:25 P.M._ **

**_Well that sucks. :/ I’m a little busy tonight, but wanna go to the Roadhouse tmrw?_ **

Castiel looked at the time; he was going to be answering a little late but he hoped that didn’t affect the offer.

**_To: My Saviour 5:40 P.M._ **

**_I would love to :)_ **

He sent the message and flopped back onto the bed. It wasn’t even a full minute he was sure before the phone buzzed again.

**_From: My Saviour 5:40 P.M._ **

**_Great :) Pick you up after work._ **

Despite the emotionally heavy phone call he just finished, Castiel was helpless against the smile that overtook his face. He was getting better; he talked to Gabe, sorted things out a bit, and he was making friends. It all seemed so strange, but Castiel was happy.

***

The next morning, Castiel struggled to get out of bed. He was achy and there was still a pit in his stomach he couldn’t seem to shake. It took more willpower than he was willing to admit to force himself out of the fluffy confines of bed and out into the living room. 

“Oh, good morning, Cas!” Charlie called, peeking out of the doorway into the kitchen briefly before ducking back in. He followed.

“Good morning, Charlie.” He saw her cup next to the coffee pot as she popped waffles into the toaster oven. He beelined it for the cereal box on the counter and poured himself a bowl. Choosing to go without milk, he placed the box back in its spot before pulling out his seat at the island.

“So, I was thinking we head to the store soon, pick up the food for movie night and stuff before my late shift today. Think you could be ready within the hour?” Charlie asked, now tending to the cup of coffee she just poured.

“Of course.” He replied between spoonfuls.

“Sweet.” She paused to sip at her drink, but winced back as the heat scorched her lips. “Also, Dean told me you guys were going to the Roadhouse tonight but since I’ve got to work, make sure he buys me food.” She said it with a grin as she chanced another sip of coffee. This time it didn’t seem to burn so bad and she took another swig. 

“Okay.” Castiel agreed. “Anything in particular you want?”

“Dean knows my order, just make sure he doesn’t forget it.” She sounded stern but there was a lightheartedness in her words. 

“Of course.”

It didn’t take long for them to finish up breakfast and be ready to head out. Within the hour, just as promised, the pair piled into Charlie’s Gremlin and drove across town to the store. The trip was short, Charlie grabbing the essentials for whatever it was that Dean was supposed to cook for movie night and Castiel being sure to grab the razor he needed. Soon enough, they were walking back out, bags piled in Castiel’s hands. He carried most of their purchases despite the pull on the muscle in his chest, and if Charlie noticed any grimace of pain, she didn’t comment on it. 

Back in the car with the music playing softly in the background, Castiel spoke.

“Hey, Charlie?” He tried not to sound as nervous as he felt, but he was sure Charlie picked up on it as they peeled out of the parking lot.

“Yeah?” She glanced at him for a moment before steadying her eyes back on the road.

“I uh, was wondering if maybe someday it would be alright for my brother to join one of these movie nights?” Castiel pointedly looked out the window as he asked. He preferred not to see any shock or upset.

“Of course, Cas! I didn’t even know you had a brother. Is he your only sibling?” She was clearly grinning, he could hear it in her voice. He didn’t want to bring down the mood so he tried to inflict a smile of his own.

“No. I actually have a few siblings, though Gabriel is the only one I want to come.” He seemed successful at masking any discontent for his previous home life. He was sort of proud of himself for that.

“Oh, okay. Well, yeah he’s welcome anytime. You guys talk often?” She inquired.

“I actually talked to him for the first time in awhile yesterday.”

“Oh?” She paused, sneaking another quick glance in his direction. “How was that?”

“It was… pleasant. I enjoy talking to him. He’s rather troublesome, but I am sure you will get along great.” He said this with a faint smile ghosting his lips; convinced it would be true. Gabe had always been a prankster, and though he has yet to see something like that out of Charlie, he gets a similar vibe from her. Yes, they would get along swimmingly.

She turned to him again. “Well then, I can’t wait to meet him. Just let me know when you think he’ll come and he’s welcome to stay on the couch.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

The thank you was for the sentiment as much as it was for listening to him. Sure, he didn’t delve into any specifics to make it any more awkward, but he still implied things about how he grew up and yet she didn’t pry any more than any normal person would. 

“No problem, Cas.” She reached over and patted his hand reassuringly. 

The rest of the ride home was quiet, soft melodies filling the car accompanied by humming. Again, Castiel carried most of the bags inside and helped to put everything away. With the shopping done, they sat down to watch another episode of Star Trek. He watched the familiar characters in their coloured shirts on the screen and enjoyed the easy going atmosphere of the room. Unfortunately, there was only time for one episode before Charlie had to get ready to go into work.

“Hey, you never told me but, where do you work?” Castiel asked, turning in his place on the couch to direct the question to her as she started to walk away. She spun around with a big grin.

“Oh I didn’t? Wow.” She uttered with a laugh. “Most of the week I work in I.T. at Roman’s but on Fridays I take an evening shift at the coffee shop. It’s a little different, but believe it or not I still end up helping people with their computers there, too.” 

Castiel was a little shocked to hear she had more than one job, though he should have clued in by the way she dressed differently for work as well as the odd shift in hours. But honestly, both jobs seemed to suit her and he was hoping the routine change of pace kept her on her toes instead of overly stressed.

“Oh, that’s really neat. So, I take it you wanted me to tag along to your I.T. job then?”

“Ah, I forgot about that! Yeah, most of the time it can be pretty dull since I just wait for people to have problems. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I brought you along. I mean, I’ve brought Gilda before and they didn’t seem to have a problem with it.” She shrugged. 

“Well then I’m sure it will be fun.” His arm was slung over the back of the couch still and the twist of his torso was starting to hurt. He shifted his whole body to face her instead.

“Yeah.” She smiled back at him before her eyes glanced up to the clock hanging on the wall. “Shit, I’ve got to hurry.” She didn’t say anything more, she just ran off towards her bedroom to rush into a change of clothes.

Castiel stayed planted on the couch as she scurried about, giving her a careful hug as she slipped out of the front door. Suddenly alone again, the familiar ringing silence settled in his ears. He only sat there for a moment before slinking away to the bathroom to finally get rid of the beard tarnishing his face. It was weird being clean-shaven again, but he looked less messed up now, so he was happy. The gash on his forehead was healing; it already looked somewhat better than it had the day before when he got rid of the bandage. Now, Castiel could finally see the recovery he felt, and he was glad to be on the right road for once.

All cleaned up and dressed, Castiel waited for Dean’s inevitable message claiming he was here. He only had to wait long enough for one episode of that silly medical drama he had found at the hospital for the buzz of his phone. He grinned at the text and switched off the T.V. without even looking back up at it. There was no point in replying, so instead he pulled on his shoes and headed out the front door, being sure to lock it behind him with the key Charlie had given him after his last worry of being locked out. 

Castiel stepped briskly towards the car, wanting sanction from the surprisingly chilly September air. The creaky door shut hard behind him as he settled into the seat.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean greeted, already putting the vehicle in reverse and pulling out of his spot in Charlie’s driveway. His arm rested behind Castiel as he twisted for a better look behind him and Castiel struggled to ignore the inviting warmth he felt at the closeness. 

“Hello, Dean.” He greeted in return. 

“Get up to anything fun today?” The gruff cadence of Dean’s voice never failed to be soothing for him.

“We got what you asked for at the store earlier and Charlie wanted to be sure you knew to get her food tonight.” Castiel fiddled with a loose thread dangling from his shirt as he spoke. 

Dean chuckled. “Of course she does. Like I would forget.” Dean rolled his eyes and Castiel found the delayed banter quite amusing. They spoke about each other in the same way Castiel was already growing used to hearing from them and it was just as entertaining to hear in this deferred back-and-forth.

The drive was quick, not too far out of walking distance from Charlie’s house if need be, but there was barely time to get comfortable before the wheels of the Impala were rolling over the dirt of the parking lot. Castiel wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting out of a place called ‘The Roadhouse’, but he should have guessed it to look like an old farmhouse barn. There were plenty of cars in the lot with it being a Friday night and he could hear the bustling of excitement from outside as soon as they stepped out of the car. 

“Man, I am starving.” Dean announced as he entered through the wooden door, Castiel in tow. Castiel agreed with his sentiment and followed him to a booth he claimed to be ‘his’. They sat on either side of the table from each other and there wasn’t but a single second between his rump hitting the seat and the approach of a small blonde woman.

“Dean!” She exclaimed, throwing a light punch into his shoulder, a broad smile on her lips. “Figured I’d see you back here soon. Who's this?” She still had a welcoming smile plastered on her features and Castiel returned it with ease. He opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Dean got to it first.

“Oh, this is Cas. I told you about him last time, remember? Cas, this is Jo.” Dean clarified, gesturing to the woman. She held out her hand and after a moment of buffering, Castiel shook it. 

“Nice to meet you.” Castiel said, releasing her hand after a few seconds. Her grip had been strong which he hadn’t thought about considering her size, but based on her first interaction with Dean, her feisty nature made it less surprising. 

“You too; Dean told me a little bit about you when he came for a pick-up order the other day. He’s never not grabbed his table when he’s here, so I was a little curious. Nice to see he’s brought you in this time.” She paused and glanced between the two of them. “A couple of beers, I take it? And the usual?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah and Charlie’s order too. But I guess I’ll order that before we head out; she’ll kill me if it’s cold.” 

Jo nodded like she was well versed in preparing this order for Dean. 

“Mom’s in the back; I’ll let her know you’re here.” Jo said, walking away from their table and back towards the door leading to the kitchen. She was only gone for a moment before she returned, beers in hand. Caps were popped off and deposited into her apron and bottles were set on the tabletop between them with a soft  _ thud _ . 

“Enjoy.” She chimed, clearly throwing on a customer service voice which actually made Dean laugh. She was smiling too as she walked back to her position behind the bar. 

“I take it you eat here often?” Castiel questioned, bringing the cold bottle up to his lips and taking a small swig of its contents. It was the same type of mildly pleasant beer he had last week in Charlie’s kitchen, so he had no complaints about the booze of choice. In fact, it was starting to grow on him and he took another drink. 

“Oh, I practically grew up here. Jo’s basically my little sister at this point and Ellen treats us like her own.” Dean took a drink from his own bottle and Castiel watched his lips throughout the fluid movement. It was almost mesmerizing. 

“Ellen?” 

“Yeah, Jo’s mom. I’m sure she’ll be out here in a minute. She’s always here to ream me a new one about something or other.” He said this with a hint of a grin tugging at his lips; fondness, Castiel could tell. 

He was about to comment on that when the swing of the kitchen door sounded and pulled their attention to it.

“Speak of the Devil.” Dean muttered, lips ticked upward as he drew another drink from the bottle. It was very hard for Castiel to look anywhere else when he did that. 

“Evening, boys.” The woman called as she approached. It was easy to tell she was the mother of the other woman. Jo looked a lot like her and just by the way she strided over their way, he could tell she had gotten her attitude from her as well. Not that that was a bad thing, by any means. 

“Hey, Ellen. This is Cas.” He spoke, diving straight into the introductions for a second time. Castiel didn’t mind it and he held out his hand once again for her to shake. She bypassed his outstretched hand and pulled him in for an awkward, slightly painful hug that pressed against his bruises. She must have felt him grimace, because she apologized as she pulled away.

“Sorry, kiddo, didn’t mean to hurt you. You alright?” She asked, motherly instinct making her question pointless as Dean answered for him anyway.

“Nah, he’s still got some cuts and bruises from the crash.” Dean spoke between sips. Castiel didn’t know what to think about knowing Dean had talked about him already, but he settled on feeling flattered rather than upset.

“Oh, honey. Heard about that. Glad you’re doing better. Don’t let this one wear you out tonight. You keep up on getting better, you hear?” She sounded much like he would expect to hear from a mother and while he felt a pang of sadness for his own mother, it was impossible to dwell on with her presence next to him. 

“I will, Ellen, thank you.” 

“Good.” She finished before turning to Dean. “And you, don’t be a stranger, you got that? Just because your brother is out of town doesn’t mean you get to skimp out on visiting me.”

Dean smiled in spite of her authoritative tone. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Been a little busy lately is all.” 

“Well you’re never too busy to swing by here.” Then she turned back to Castiel. “And I hope to see more of you, Cas. You look like you could be a good influence on this kid.”

“I, uh… okay.” He agreed. He should have been more hesitant, but she was demanding in a good way and Castiel could see himself enjoying it here. He would be hard pressed to find a reason to disagree with her.

“Good. I’ve gotta get back there, but you two have fun.” She grinned before she spun on her heel and marched back towards the kitchen. Castiel dropped his shoulders then, unaware until that moment that he had been sitting up straight as a nail in her presence. He shook out his shoulders and took another drink.

“Sorry about her.” Dean started, following Castiel’s lead and taking a drink from his own beer. “She can be a little… abrasive sometimes. She’s good people though.” 

Castiel couldn’t help but to smile at this. Obviously, Dean was right about that. The familial vibe from the bar was more welcoming than anything he had ever experienced and he was sure there was no way to pull the smile from his face tonight.

It wasn’t much longer after that when their burgers came. There was less talking then as they stuffed their faces with greasy patties and crisp french fries. Once plates were cleared, they had another two beers as they waited on Charlie’s food to be prepared. 

“So, Cas, you liking Lawrence?” Dean was leaning back in his chair when he asked this, stretching out his stomach as if that would give more room for the food to settle. 

“I think I am.” He admitted, eyes cast down to his own hands surrounding the sweating beer bottle. 

Dean just nodded, seemingly satisfied with Castiel’s answer. He thought he saw a faint pink hue on Dean’s cheeks after that, but it was more likely that it was just the lighting of the bar reflected on his face. Still, it looked good resting there. 

Then, Charlie’s food came, all packaged up in a little box that warmed whatever was touching it. There was a little red bow tied around it to keep it closed, but Castiel had the feeling that that wasn’t a normal practice in such a place. Dean had confirmed that moments later by telling him Jo always did that to Charlie’s order, though he wasn’t sure why. It was one of those small things that brought a smile to Castiel’s face.

They drove back to Charlie’s in a car swelling with laughter. Dean spent the short ride telling some story about how Sam once nearly took a hand off when he got a hold of their father’s butterfly knife when he was about four years old. He apparently found it in the cushions of the couch after months of his father griping over the missing blade and only had it in his hands for maybe five minutes before Dean had found him giggling, touching the handle of the blade as it stuck into the wall. Dean had been laughing through the story, and despite the dangerous implications of a four-year-old finding a butterfly knife, he found himself laughing along with him. 

By the time they pulled back onto the gravel of the driveway, Castiel’s mouth ached from smiling so much. Dean informed him he couldn’t come in since he had some things to take care of at home, so Castiel exited the vehicle alone, Charlie’s still hot food in hand. He waved as Dean pulled back out onto the road and caught sight of his gleaming smile through the dim of the dark just before he took off. 

Once inside, he gave Charlie her food, the grin unable to abandon his lips. He told her about their night, she asked a few questions between bites, and then they sat down together for another episode of Star Trek. They were only able to watch one as sleep threatened to take him and after the credits rolled, Castiel bid Charlie goodnight and retreated to his room.

He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The nightmares stayed gone for once, and for that, Castiel was thankful.

***

Saturday passed slowly, yet somehow swiftly. It was odd. When he paid attention to the time, it dragged on and on, but when he was distracted by messages, time seemed to fly by. Castiel had taken up some chores during the day, getting engrossed by Dean intermittently through no fault of his own, and by the time he had gone to bed, he was almost giddy to see Dean again for movie night. They had discussed it earlier in the day and it was agreed that they would finish making it through the Star Wars movies before moving on to anything else, but Dean had been adamant that the next franchise on the list would be Indiana Jones. Of course, Castiel had no idea what it was about, but knowing Dean was excited about it made him just as ecstatic as he seemed to be.

When he woke up the next morning, slightly groggy and barely out of the threshold for sleep that led to grumpiness, he practically felt like he was vibrating. He got out of bed, surprisingly before Charlie, and decided to try his hand at cooking. He was lucky to find that the pancakes from the previous week came from a box mix and not from scratch, and followed the instructions. That, he could do. He was never very good at cooking unless there was a specific set of instructions and details to follow. Taking any liberties almost always ended in disaster for him. 

Proud of himself, Castiel set the finished pancakes on a plate off to the side. He was about to go wake Charlie when she padded into the room as if she had some sixth sense someone was making her food.

“Oh, sweet! You didn’t have to do this, Cas.” She spoke, piling pancakes on her plate with a grin anyway.

“No, but I wanted to. It’s not much, but I wanted to thank you for helping me.” He knew she wouldn’t want a detailed thank you speech or anything, so he kept it short. 

“Well, you’re welcome.” She said proudly, dousing her pancakes in syrup. 

They sat down together and ate in companionable silence. This time, Castiel was able to finish first and he got up to clean up the kitchen as soon as he was done. By the time he dried his hands, Charlie was done as well and he could feel the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and she stepped up to rinse her own before he could protest. 

The message was from Dean, though by now, that was no surprise. 

**_From: My Saviour 10:34 A.M_ **

**_Morning Cas. Think I’ll be over around 4, gonna head into the shop for a bit_ **

Castiel tried not to be disappointed by the relatively late arrival, but he understood all the same. 

**_To: My Saviour 10:36 A.M._ **

**_Sounds good, Dean._ **

He pocketed his phone and noticed that Charlie must have left while he was otherwise preoccupied. When he stepped out of the kitchen himself, he could faintly hear the running of water and realized she was in the shower. So, with nothing else to do, Castiel settled into the plush couch and turned on the T.V.

When Charlie rejoined him in the living room, Dr. Sexy was still playing on the television.

“Oh no, not you too.” She joked, taking her seat next to him on the couch.

“Too?” Castiel asked. Charlie just grinned.

“Yeah, Dean won’t admit it, but I’ve caught him watching it more than enough times to be coincidence. He loves this show.” She laughed.

Castiel remembered Dean’s admission in the hospital room and wondered why he would confess that to him and not Charlie. Perhaps it was because Castiel had been the one caught watching.

Despite the playful jabs, they both sat and watched the next few episodes as they played over the hours. When the channel finally decided to air something else, Castiel rose from the cushions and stretched, telling Charlie that he was going to catch a quick shower himself before Dean came. She had no jabs to throw his way at that, and so he went off to clean up.

This shower was rushed, but as pleasant as it could have been given his circumstances. The water still pounded on aching bones and ran down scabbed over gashes, but it was warm and exactly what he needed. By the time he was out and dressed, he saw the telltale blinking light on his phone and opened it up quickly.

**_From: My Saviour 3:58 P.M._ **

**_Hey Cas I’m on the way can you unlock the door?_ **

Castiel went straight for the door, unlatching it before he even typed out his reply and ignoring the strange look Charlie was shooting his way.

**_To: My Saviour 4:04 P.M._ **

**_It’s unlocked._ **

“Dean almost here?” Charlie called from her spot.

“Yes. He asked me to unlock the door for him.” Castiel clarified. A smirk grew on her face but Castiel chose to ignore it. Instead, he came over and sat next to her on the couch. She patted his knee and looked at him like she had something to say when the door swung open.

Dean waltzed in, hair wet and smile wide. Castiel could see his freckles even from the couch and he was reminded of the idea of counting them. He wondered if that would ever be a possibility. 

“Hey guys.” Dean said, leaning down to untie his shoes. He shrugged them off onto the mat by the door and walked into the living room.

“Thought you’d never show up. You had better get to cooking, Handmaiden, before we start the movie without you.” Charlie chided, a playful tone in her voice. Dean smiled along.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He rolled his eyes at her. He paused for a moment there, next to the couch, as if he planned to do something else, before spinning on his heel and rushing away into the kitchen. Castiel was a little confused about it, but he was sure Dean just forgot what he was going to say or something of the sort. 

Charlie and Castiel stayed on the couch as Dean worked away in the kitchen. They ended up putting on another episode of Star Trek after they tried to get up and offer help and Dean had shooed them away. Conveniently, Dean called for them to come grab their plates seconds after the credits began to roll.

The smell was even stronger in the kitchen and Castiel was sure he couldn't be the only one whose mouth was watering.

“So what’re we having, chef?” Charlie teased. Despite the fact that they bought the ingredients, Dean never really told them what it would end up being. Dean looked between them both with a proud smile before piling penne noodles into shallow bowls.

“ Chicken Cacciatore with penne.” He replied, pinching his fingers together to accompany his faked Italian accent then added a lovely looking braised chicken breast atop the noodles. Castiel’s stomach growled at the sight. 

“Looks delicious.” Castiel said, following after Charlie as she reached for her bowl. He took the next bowl once Dean had filled it, but waited in the kitchen as Dean filled his own. When Dean turned around, he met Castiel’s eyes and looked away quickly, a shy smile on his lips and that faint hue he was sure he saw earlier on his cheeks.

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, we better not keep her waiting.” He muttered, waiting only a beat before quickly stepping out into the living room. Castiel quickly followed behind, desperately trying not to think too hard about the weird interaction they just had. When he sat down, he took his spot next to Dean where they had sat the previous week, this time much more aware of the distance between them.

“And now, we begin again on our heroes’ journey. Let us eat this bird and let the force guide our forks.” Charlie announced as she finally pressed the play button on the T.V. 

The lights were dimmed and the movie began. The yellow scroll of text started moving up the screen and they dug into the food, none of them even attempting to hide the satisfied groans that came from their throats as the taste hit their tongues. 

“Why is this the first time you’ve made this for me?” Charlie accused, mouth full and still chewing. 

Dean laughed after he swallowed his own bite. “Guess I’ve just been motivated to try new things?” He grinned and took another mouthful from his fork. 

It really was delicious, probably one of the best dishes Castiel had ever had if he was honest. The outside of the chicken was crispy and it was covered in a lovely tomato based sauce. The sauce alone had so much to it that Castiel wasn’t confident he could place every flavour, but he was sure he tasted bell peppers and wine. It was absolutely divine.

“Thank you for this, Dean.” Castiel said suddenly, mouth still full as he spoke around the food. Dean looked at him for a second then quickly looked away, eyes pointed down towards his own plate as he huffed out a laugh.

“Eh, it’s not a big deal. I’m glad it turned out well.” He finished, nervously scooping up another bite onto his fork as he raised his eyes to focus on the movie. They all stayed pretty quiet after that, choosing to enjoy each other’s company to the soundtrack of Star Wars.

The movie went fast, bowls emptied by the halfway point of the film left abandoned on the side tables throughout the room. When the familiar trumpets sounded the song that accompanied the credits, Castiel stood first. He stretched a little, mindful of his wounds that still caused discomfort, then gathered up the plates and took them to the kitchen. Though he wanted to be sure he was the one who cleaned up, he figured it could wait and he stepped back out into the living room. 

What Castiel hadn’t noticed when he had gotten up was that Dean had passed out on the couch, now curled up into the space he had been sitting in just moments ago. He looked over to Charlie, but it seemed she was asleep as well. Despite the loud music still playing from the screen, both of them had managed to fall asleep. 

Looking at Dean made his chest feel tight; a different pain than any pull at the gash across his pectorals. Dean looked peaceful, comfortable. His mouth hung open slightly, soft breaths escaping his lips. His arms were wrapped around the pillow Castiel had been leaning against for the duration of the film and never had he been more jealous of a pillow. Dean’s legs were tucked under him, curled up on the cushions. 

Instead of waking Dean, Castiel turned to Charlie. He nudged her shoulder and she instantly opened her eyes, darting them from Castiel to the screen and back to Castiel. She leaned her head back and sighed, pulling herself from her sideways position and up into a sitting one.

“Sorry, Cas, didn’t mean to fall asleep there.” She said, rubbing at her eyes.

“It appears you weren’t the only one.” He said, unable to fight the grin on his lips as he motioned to Dean with his head. Charlie followed the movement with her gaze and saw Dean’s sleeping frame. She smiled then as well.

“This happens every time. I swear, Dean is an old man.” She stretched and pulled herself to her feet, padding across the carpet to where Dean was resting. Then, she pushed against his shoulder a few times.

“Dean, time to wake up.” 

It took a few more shoves and a few more words of encouragement for Dean to finally force his eyes to open, but when they did, they flew open in a snap.

“Shit, again?” He rubbed at his eyes just as Charlie had and righted himself on the couch. “Guess I’m getting old, huh?” He laughed.

Castiel was sure Dean and Charlie must be on some secret wavelength then; a radio frequency all their own. 

“I’d say so.” She joked back. “You’re welcome to stay over again if you want to.” She offered. Dean just shook his head and rose to his feet. 

“No, no. I think I’ll wreck my back if I sleep on that thing again. I think I’d be better off chancing the drive home.” When he reached to the ceiling to stretch out, an almost sickening  _ crack!  _ with multiple accompanying  _ pops!  _ came from Dean’s back, solidifying Dean’s statement and causing Charlie and Castiel to grimace. “See?” He finished.

“Yeah, yeah, I see. Go home, get some rest, Winchester.” Charlie scolded, enveloping Dean in a warm hug. He held on tight, pressing his face against the top of her hair in a kiss. Castiel shifted between his feet, unable to contain his want to be that close to Dean again, even if it was selfish. When Charlie pulled away, Dean stepped over to him and pulled him in before he could even process it was happening. His brain caught up fast and he didn’t waste another moment before he wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. Castiel must have been more tired than he thought, because he could have sworn he felt the same soft kiss on his head.

Then, Dean pulled away, leaving Castiel feeling uncomfortably empty. He managed to turn and watch as Dean slipped his boots back on his feet.

“See you guys next week.. Maybe I’ll actually stay awake.” He chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck as he pulled the door open.

“Goodbye, Dean.” Castiel called, catching one final glimpse at the gorgeous smile on Dean’s lips before the door was closed between them. 

“Well, I think I’m going to hit the hay too. You don’t have to worry about cleaning up; I can do it in the morning.” She yawned. “Night, Cas.” Charlie padded off down the hallway towards her room, effectively leaving Castiel alone.

The silence hurt; a change from his usual comfort in it. He used to love it. It was a sign nothing was happening, that he was safe for the moment, that no one was yelling or coming for him. Now, he felt lonely. He was sure he had felt loneliness before, but this was different somehow. The familiar buzz felt bone deep, like it was vibrating through his bruised rib cage, reverberating through the troughs of the gashes scoring his body, raking over the scars shaping his back in large, scattered peaks. 

Castiel tried to ignore it as he flitted into the kitchen. He tried to push it away, out of his body and far from him while he packaged up the leftovers. He swallowed frequently to just hear  _ something  _ in addition to the running water over the messy dishes, leaving his throat feeling as though he had gauze in his mouth. It was painful to hear the nothing now; so strange how his comfort in emptiness shifted to panic. 

It continued to strangle him as he laid down in his bed. The covers felt like a weight on his chest, teetering between being a small comfort and too much to breathe under. His phone stayed silent on the nightstand, no messages to distract him now. Falling into sleep was a struggle; it felt like hours that he laid there just waiting as the silent air threatened to suffocate him. When he did sleep, he wished he wouldn’t dream. He didn’t want familiar faces tearing at his back. He didn’t want the voices of those who had hurt him nor the damning fists and knives of friends and family. Unfortunately, that is exactly what he got and the heavy flood of nightmares drowned him.


	7. Now Hiring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Okay, so classes start this upcoming week again and my course load is likely going to be overwhelming. (Only 1 class has put up what we're doing this semester and it's already a lot) I say this in case I end up missing a week or having a chapter come out a bit late! Hopefully that doesn't happen, but I want to be sure you guys don't think I've dropped this if updates don't come as regularly for a bit! Fingers crossed I stay o top of it though and this message is pointless. Anyway, enjoy this extra long chapter in case of future delays! <3

Castiel tore himself from sleep. It was the kind of sleep that glued your eyes closed when you wake; no matter how much you swipe at them, the crud still blurs your vision. The awful kind that leaves lingering pain in your joints, phantom remnants of what you were put through in your dreams. Pinging jolts of flame you could have sworn weren’t real against your skin with no burn marks to prove it. The kind of sleep that makes you stay in bed once freed; as if the prison of the mattress you were trapped in for hours could suddenly be a sanctum, a holy place where you can’t be harmed. As if you would undoubtedly meet the wolves at your door that shredded your skin the night before if you were to venture out. The kind of sleep that makes you wish and pray and cry to never sleep again.

That’s what Castiel woke from. He felt trapped in the bed, but the idea of leaving it and likely having to talk to Charlie made his stomach lurch. He was sure there were bags under his eyes, clearly visible and inviting comments. Another hour Castiel laid in bed, unable to even consider the idea of leaving this comfort. Then, another. And maybe one more.

It felt like he kept drifting in and out of sleep, always on the precipice, ready to dive but being caught by the hem of his pants before the plunge. It was frustrating to say the least, but the possibility of returning to sleep was far too much to handle, so Castiel found himself thankful for the steadying of his teetering sanity.

It was decided for him that he would get up when a knock sounded through the hollow wood of the door.

“Cas? You doing alright in there?” 

Castiel hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath in anticipation of the voice, wanting it to be Dean yet strangely thankful it wasn’t.

“Yes, I just… slept poorly.” He conceded behind the safety of the blankets. 

“May I come in?” She asked, barely waiting for a noise of confirmation before pushing her way in. When she saw him, her eyes softened, her hands tangled together in front of her chest, and she stepped over to sit at the foot of his bed. It felt much like being checked up on by his mother and the soothing, relaxing feeling that flooded his chest was like a long lost friend returning home. In a way, that was exactly what it was. 

“You want to talk about it?” She rested her hand on his leg and any hope he had of dodging her questions rushed out the door. 

“I just… I had nightmares. I have nightmares. Not as much since being here, but… these were bad.” Unconsciously, he tugged at the covers, unable to pull them up any higher due to Charlie’s weight at the end of the bed, but it hadn’t mattered much. He didn’t really need the comfort anyway.

Instead of prodding or pushing him, Charlie just stayed, she waited, hoping he would say more, to elaborate, but not daring to overstep. 

“I guess… I suppose they are more like vivid memories than dreams.” 

She looked at him with sad eyes, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Cas. But if you want, I can call into work today and you can tell me as much as you want.”

Castiel hadn’t even realized the time when she walked in. It felt like he had been awake in that limbo of consciousness for hours and he was so sure it was at least afternoon already. When he craned his neck towards the clock, he was surprised to see it was only approaching ten. Charlie would have to be at work soon and if he thought about it, she should probably already be rushing over there and not sitting here trying to check up on him. With a sigh he pushed himself into a sitting position, pillow stuffed behind his back against the headboard and covers rested gently over his lap.

He shook his head. “No, no. You should go to work; don’t miss it on my account.” Selfishly, he wished he could take her up on the offer. The longing to get some of this off of his chest was going to burn a searing hole right through him, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

“You sure?” She leveled him with her eyes, attempting to gauge his truth-telling or perhaps looking deeper for any context clues. 

He nodded despite his apprehension. “Yes. It is all the past now. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it feels worse. And sometimes it feels better.” He wasn’t sure where that fleck of optimism came from; it caught even himself off guard. Still, it felt right, like the words chose themselves and he was merely a conduit for their journey. Charlie brandished a hint of a smile at that, and Castiel was sure he had been convincing enough. 

“Okay, but the offer still stands even after I get home from work today. Or any day for that matter. We’re here for you, alright?” Again, Castiel felt the familiar motherly presence. It was so achingly easy, so overwhelmingly needed. He hadn’t felt it in years, not since he was about 6 years old, but there was a carved out place in his heart for it and sometimes, like when Charlie was adamant he was safe or that he could talk to her, the divot in his chest warmed as if the sun was finally directly overhead again with no shadows to cool his skin. She wasn’t anything like his mother and it would be unfair to both of them to compare them, but sometimes the comfort that settled in his chest felt the same, and he was grateful nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” He said finally. “I will remember that.” He meant it. The nightmares had been bad, spurred on by the alteration in the buzz of silence the night before. He had been lonely; realized he had always been lonely. And it had been a lot. It beared down on him, dredging up painful memory after painful memory. He had felt the ice through his skin again, down to the bone. It had been just as scary as it was in real time, but accompanied by an all-knowing pressure that added another layer, previously unknown to him. 

He was lonely. Family had all left him besides Gabriel, none without their share of damage inflicted upon him. Even Gabe had abandoned him once, though he doesn’t like to mention it now. Friends had treated him much of the same. He was there as a tool, unwanted for any other reason than to be useful and discarded once he became more trouble than he was worth. It was like he had endlessly been pinballed around, no place to stick, no one that truly cared. At least, no one had ever said that they did. He heard it from his mother before she passed, but not a single soul since he was 6 and sobbing by her bedside had cared for him. In the end, he wasn’t sure what hurt worse: the physical pain, cuts and bruises so generously given, or the weight of knowing that there was no point in time when any of those who had harmed him could have cared for him.

He looked up at Charlie; she was blissfully unaware of the storm in his brain as she smiled down on him, pressing her hand into his shin as she rose from his bed. And after everything, he still had hope that could change.

***

By the time Charlie came home, Castiel was feeling a little bit better. She hadn’t broached the subject and he was thankful for it. He wanted to tell her, wanted to show her, but it didn’t feel right yet. He didn’t want to prove just how damaged he was out of fear of confirming he was just too much to care about. He could take the unaware sentiments, the unfulfilled offers to open up as long as he was able to stay here, to see her and to see Dean and get to enjoy simply being. 

It was different than anything he had experienced before. Most of the time, hostility had been an adornment fastened onto the sleeves of anyone around him. There were very few instances of kindness that could surface in his memories and almost all of which had been shown to him by strangers. Additionally, a majority of that section was now being occupied by Charlie and Dean. It was not something he was used to, but it was certainly something he wanted to cling to. For now, they didn’t have to know, and as still somewhat of strangers, he could keep their niceties in a polished case that could be kept safe from the creeping rot that was at the essence of him. It was safer for all involved if he didn’t indulge the temptation to confess, to spill, to have a place to rest the weight on his shoulders. She didn’t deserve the weight;  _ Dean  _ didn’t deserve the weight. And by now, he was so used to carrying it, what was one more day, one more year, one more lifetime? 

Of course he wanted to tell them. He wished he could get the rest from this weight he so desperately longed for, but he was content in keeping it if it meant he could safely keep both Dean and Charlie. They had so quickly become important to him and he wasn’t ready to muck it up, to likely have to let them go. He, for once in his life, wanted to be a little selfish. He wanted them to be his friends, to like him. The last thing he wanted was pity.

This conclusion would sound like self pity to anyone else, but it was the most reassuring thing Castiel could come up with. The nightmares would be back, of that he was sure; they always came back. And yet, maybe there was some sort of hope on the horizon. That’s what spurred Castiel into his next decision.

“Hey, Charlie?” He spoke as he stood by her side in the kitchen, stirring the pot of Kraft Mac ‘n Cheese as she closed the oven on the tray of chicken nuggets.

“Yeah?” She replied, her attention split between him and the placement of the pan. 

“I think I’m ready to work again.” 

Charlie straightened up, a surprised smile ghosting her lips. 

“You do look quite a bit better than how we found you. What kind of job do you think you’ll look for?” She waltzed past him to the fridge, opening it up and grabbing two of the tastier fruity drinks she kept for herself. The fridge was always stocked with beer for Dean, but Charlie kept a few good things for herself in there as well. She placed the second one down on the counter and slid it over to Castiel. He popped it open and took a sip of the bubbling drink before continuing on.

“Well, I used to do accounting.” He was looking at his drink at the time, but he tilted his head up after he swore he heard her laugh, but her face was stone and stoic. She tightened her brows and gestured with her hand for him to keep going. “But, I think I need a break from that. Maybe something easy. And quiet.” 

Charlie brought her hands up to her chin and gave it a contemplative scratch. “Hm…” She started. “Well, I’m pretty sure the bookstore is looking for people right now. I saw the sign on my way into work actually. That would be quiet and hopefully pretty easy.” She offered up with a shrug.

Castiel considered it. It would be relatively quiet for sure and it would be unlikely that he would have to deal with many angry customers there. Not to mention that the most strenuous activity would probably be restocking books cleared out on empty shelves. All in all, it sounded like exactly what he needed.

“That sounds perfect, actually. Thank you.” He responded after his brief deliberation. 

After waiting on the nuggets to bake, they divvied up the macaroni and sat down in the living room together. Another episode of Star Trek was eventually put on (after Castiel argued for more Dr. Sexy) and it wasn’t long before the food was gone. They watched another episode to let the food settle, but it seemed they were both more tired than they thought and turned in for bed soon after it was over.

That night, Castiel struggled to fall asleep. He could feel the residual effects of the previous night’s horrors and dreaded the possibility of returning to them despite the incessant pull of his eyelids. At sleep’s first touch, there was just darkness, a hollow, easy nothingness surrounding him. The nightmares came again, but they were different. He still felt the cold drag of the blade, familiar and biting, but he couldn’t see his attacker. This time, he couldn’t turn around, couldn’t see, could only feel. It should have been worse, not knowing where the blinding pain was coming from, but even if he couldn’t see them, he still knew. Memories ever present faded away into the sounds of tires over asphalt and soft rock ballads. He still couldn’t see, no visuals coming to aid his shift in location, but his other senses turned up to help. Soft cushion underneath of him, surrounded in metal. He could feel wind whipping through his hair and across his face. It smelled like the forest, like tall grass in an open field, and like smoke from a fire. The combination seemed familiar, but unplaceable, yet calming all the same. There was a press of a hand over his, large and calloused but tender in touch. 

This time when Castiel woke, it wasn’t because of adrenaline and fear, but because his pillow felt wet against his face. Tears had fallen in his sleep, soaking into the pillowcase underneath his head. Strangely, though since he couldn’t remember his dream he couldn’t be sure, they didn’t feel born out of fear. When his eyes slowly opened, he felt content to an extent. There was a burning at the back of his brain, like there was something it wanted him to remember yet it refused to supply it itself. So, Castiel shrugged to himself and got out of bed.

Their morning went about the same as it always does. Charlie made coffee and Castiel decided to have some with her. They shared breakfast and he held her mug, keeping it warm in his hands as she rushed into a change of clothes. He handed it to her on her way out and was left in the silence again. The itching of loneliness tried to settle in again amidst the quiet buzz, but he reminded himself he had Charlie and Dean now. Though he’s sure they won’t stick around forever, he convinced himself they are here for now, so if there is any time to push away the loneliness, it’s while they are around. If that changes, he’s sure the shift in the reverberating silence will return, but for now, he ignored it, forcing himself to believe it felt the same as before his previous revelation. The silence at first fought him, but eventually conceded, the harsh shift ebbing away to familiar grounds. He was able to shower again, the wounds much more healed now. Bruises so faint and gashes no longer sore. There was a change of clothes then Castiel smiled and pulled on his shoes.

He started walking, not really knowing which direction was correct. There was about 10 minutes of wandering before he remembered his phone weighing in his pocket. He pulled it out and brought up a map, typing in the destination he was searching for and following the path it highlighted for him. Thankfully, the walk was quick after that as he had somehow started out in the right direction. A short walk was another plus side if he could get this job. 

The door chimed when he pushed it open, a golden bell dangling from the wall above it as the source of the sound. Two steps in and he could tell it was a popular bookstore. It wasn’t crowded per se, but there was always shuffling and quiet drifts of conversation. To the right of the entrance there were a few display stands of books advertising for new sellers that led the way to a small open coffee shop. The place smelled like coffee and newly printed paper. It was practically Castiel’s favorite combination. He was tempted to grab a coffee, but he reminded himself of his reason for being there and altered his course from the coffee shop towards the checkout area of the bookstore. There were two registers open, both manned by tired looking cashiers. Neither were smiling as he walked up, but as soon as he was noticed, their lips upturned almost automatically. It was a little freaky. The man was younger, likely a teen. He seemed a little more genuine in his smile, though he looked like he could use about 20 hours of sleep or a really strong coffee. The woman on the other hand, looked brash. Her smile was definitely forced and it more so resembled a sneer than a grin. Her hair fell around her shoulders and she looked as if she would rather be anywhere else besides here. 

“Hello! What can we help you with?” the boy spoke first. Now that Castiel was closer, he really looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Castiel could understand the struggle. 

“I’m here about the position open?” He started, suddenly feeling the nerves bundle up in his stomach. He hadn’t been in an interview in a few years. Working at the same place for years will do that to you.

“Cool.” The woman chimed in lamely. “One sec.” As she walked away he noticed she was chewing gum and he couldn’t help but pray he wouldn’t have many shifts with her if he was lucky to get the job. It only took a few moments for her to return, a slim redheaded woman trailing only a step behind her. 

“Good afternoon.” Spoke the woman with an accent that threw him off guard. He hadn’t been expecting the crass Scottish in Kansas. She held out her hand and he shook it, matching her firm grip. “Rowena.” She introduced herself.

“Castiel.” He put a smile on his face during the interaction. They dropped each other’s hand.

“So, want to come on back, dearie?”

He agreed and was let behind the counter, following the flow of the woman’s satin dress to the room she had come from before. She motioned to the seat across from her desk and sat down in her own chair, crossing her hands over the top of it as she waited.

“So, do you have a resume with you?” She sort of held her hand out, expecting to receive a few sheets of paper.  _ Shit.  _ Castiel hadn’t brought one; he hadn’t even remembered that was a thing he was supposed to do but even if he had, there was no printer at Charlie’s place and there was nowhere he could have made one. Instead, he offered up a shy smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have one with me. I sort of had an unfortunate situation that found me here and I’ve had nowhere to start. Just hoping to get back on my feet.” It was the truth, however clouded. She seemed to accept his answer.

“Things happen; I understand.” The woman shrugged, letting her hands fall back into a comfortable fold on the table. “So, what can you tell me about yourself?”

The interview felt like it lasted forever. She asked so many questions, many more than he had expected to have to answer to be a cashier at a bookstore, but he assumed it was only fair because of how unprepared he came. He was actually surprised she even continued the interview in the first place. All in all, it went well. Rowena had told him that she would get back to him tomorrow about the position, but that since there hadn’t been many applicants so far, he could probably expect to be employed soon. He resisted the enticing aroma of coffee on his way out and nodded a goodbye to the grumpy woman and the tired boy at the counter. 

He trekked home, ignoring the chill in the air as the wind rushed past him. All there was left to do about the job was wait. When he made it home, he made himself lunch and he waited. Then Charlie came home and he told her about the interview. They made dinner and he waited. They sat and talked, Charlie bringing up Dean more than once, making Castiel blush. They went to their separate rooms; Castiel fell into bed, and he waited. Sleep came for him slowly, covering him like a thick fog in the early morning. In his dreams, he waited. He sat on the same cushion, blinded again, but comfortable. Now familiar smells welcomed him to wait with them.

By the time morning rolled around, he felt like he had already been waiting a lifetime. They had breakfast again. Coffee in Castiel’s hand ripped away as Charlie fled out the door to go to work. The quiet felt charged, anticipation jolting through his system. Then he felt the vibration of his phone nested in his pocket. It took a fraction of a second for him to pull it out, ready to press the answer call button. But, it wasn’t a call. It was Dean.

**_From: My Saviour 11:20 A.M._ **

**_Hey Cas! You busy tonight?_ **

Well this was a surprise. Of course Castiel wasn’t busy. He wasn’t sure what Dean could possibly have cooked up, but it wouldn’t matter. Castiel would do practically anything he wanted to do. By now, he was willing to admit to himself that he had a crush. There was no way anything would come of it. For one, Castiel had a lot of baggage, way too much to comfortably date anyone. And two, he was pretty sure Dean was straight. He was at least very clearly accepting, which did make Castiel feel loads better than when he first met him, but he was pretty sure the man did not swing his way. Unfortunate, but so is life. Still, Castiel was happy to take whatever Dean would give him. If he wanted him as a friend, then Castiel could likely be content staying in that position forever as long as it meant being around him. So, he quickly typed out his reply.

**_To: My Saviour 11:12 A.M._ **

**_No, I am not busy tonight. Did you have plans?_ **

He didn’t even have to wait a minute before his phone was vibrating again.

**_From: My Saviour 11:12 A.M._ **

**_You know it. Pick you up at 7:30?_ **

There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the grin spreading across his lips. 

**_To: My Saviour 11:13 A.M._ **

**_Sounds good to me. What are we doing?_ **

Castiel settled into the couch, barely hitting the cushions before another response came pinging into his phone.

**_From: My Saviour 11:14 A.M._ **

**_You’ll just have to wait and see ;)_ **

The wink threw him off. Castiel was sure he must be misreading something. It was always so difficult for him to extrapolate mood from text messages. He was sure it was either a typo on Dean’s part, or a misunderstanding from his own. Dean has never winked at him in person, therefore, this was not a wink. Simple.

**_To: My Saviour 11:15 A.M._ **

**_I generally do not like surprises, but I’ll let it pass this once._ **

Castiel reached for the remote and switched on the television, flipping through the channels in search of his new favorite show. He kept the volume low and his phone buzzed again. This time, it kept going. His screen displayed a number he didn’t know as it rang and with no time to search up the number now, he took a deep breath and answered it.

“Hello?” He managed to keep his voice from wavering.

“Hello, Castiel?” The familiar Scottish accent flowed through the speaker and he calmed.

“Yes, this is Castiel.” 

“It’s Rowena, darling. The job is yours if you want it.”

Castiel tried not to yell; in fact, he held his breath again to put a lid on his excitement, to squash it down to an acceptable level. Then, he leaned the phone away and cleared his throat.

“Yes, I would love that. Thank you so much.” He was practically giddy at this point, struggling to sit still in his seat.

“Great! We’re glad to have you along. Would you perhaps be able to come in tomorrow? We can go through orientation and discuss your schedule; get all the boring details ironed out.” 

“Sounds great.” He kept his voice even. “What time?”

“Does 10 work for you?” she asked.

“That works fine. Thank you again, Rowena.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“Likewise.” They hung up after that, a quick round of goodbyes sounded before the line clicked dead. 

Castiel got the job. It’s not like it’s some dream job or anything, but it’s a step in the right direction. A step towards being back on his feet, towards paying people back for everything they have done for him, and towards getting a place of his own. He had the receipts for the things Dean had got him and he made Dean promise to give him an accurate quote on how much it would be for his car to be fixed. He hadn’t gotten back to him about that yet, but he had some time before payment as he waited for rounds of paychecks. Things were looking up. His phone buzzed once more, drawing his attention away from his tallying of debts to the message on the screen.

**_From: My Saviour 11:20 A.M._ **

**_You’re gonna love it ok? just trust me_ **

Castiel sighed with a smile on his lips and rolled his eyes before typing something back and turning the volume up on the T.V. He spent the next few hours watching shows and responding to Dean who apparently didn’t have enough to do at work today. Each message that came in made his stomach feel fluttery and Castiel began to wonder just how he was supposed to survive a surprise. It was going to be bad enough being in such proximity to him, but the added nerves of a surprise whirling around with butterflies in his stomach made him worry for his future self. 

Time ticked away to the tune of reruns and Castiel was shocked to see a new message telling him that Dean was waiting in the car. He typed out a message to Charlie, informing her that he would be going out and to not wait up on dinner. She had responded before he could even pull his shoes on. Something along the lines of ‘have fun, be good’ with the same winky face Dean had sent earlier and Castiel was beginning to assume that this flirty nature must just be another one of those things they pick up on from each other. It had to be.

He pulled the front door closed behind him, turning his key in the lock to feel the reassuring click. He met Dean in the front seat of the car and as soon as the door groaned closed beside him, he felt a familiar rush of sensations. Sudden comfort, hints of the forest and burned wood on the leather cushion underneath him. There was no possible way he could keep from smiling.

“What’s up with you?” Dean asked with amused curiosity as he backed out of the driveway. 

“Nothing, just, I am happy you invited me out, but you are going to have to tell me what this is about soon or I am going to start guessing and I won’t stop until I’m right. I’m sure it will be annoying for you.” He raised his eyes from his lap to meet the deep emerald green of Dean’s, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. Dean just rolled his eyes and looked back to the road. 

“You’ll see, you’ll see. Gotta have some patience, man.” He laughed. And with that, he turned the radio up slightly and focused on the drive. Castiel tried patience. He tried not to ask again, to blurt out nervous guesses as the bundle in his stomach grew. They were driving out of town, not towards where Dean had told him he lived and not towards the bar they went to the week before. Towards the outskirts of town, past empty Kansas fields and tornado scrapped buildings. Barns slowly became more scarce and he could see the start of the sun falling from the sky. Music reverberated from the metal frame of the car and into his ears. Everything here, the sounds, the smells, what he could feel, was exactly the same as in his dreams. 

Eventually, Dean slowed, pulling off of the main road out of town and down onto some barely visible dirt path. It was bumpy, divots in the earth beneath the tires leaving tiny pitfalls the wheels fell victim to over and over again. It jolted Castiel in his seat and swung him sideways into the door. He hit it lightly, not hard enough to hurt, but then there was a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. 

“Woah there Cas, it’s not that bumpy.” Dean still had his eyes on the road, but the warmth spreading from his fingers through his shirt was enough to bring the butterflies to the forefront again in full swing. Dean’s hand fell away quickly, but he still didn’t look over at Castiel. He couldn’t read Dean’s expression in the waning sunlight from his side, but he decided it was best not to try to. After that, Castiel decided to focus on counter-balancing himself with the drops in the dirt. The road twisted around bushes lining the way, through trees and tarnished grass until they came upon a clearing. Open space extended out through the dashboard window, the incline into a hill dragging the vehicle to the top. When Dean finally put the car in park, they were at the top of it and through the glass Castiel could see the world.

“Dean-?”

Then, Dean’s hand was around his wrist and he was smiling that smile that quite literally stole the breath from his lungs.

“C’mon, Cas.” Dean didn’t have to ask him twice. In that moment, Castiel was convinced that he would follow him anywhere. To the ends of the earth or an early grave, to the depths of the Marianas Trench or the heights of the Heavens. But for now, he followed out of the car. He followed around the front and up on to the hood. He followed the way he leaned back against the windshield, careful of his weight on the glass. Followed his gaze up towards the sky. Pink streaks folded with blues and purples, extending over the farthest stretch of land Castiel was sure he would ever see. It was so open, the wind gaining traction over the expanse of grass and pushing up over the hill. 

“This is beautiful, Dean.” It was the first thought that could form in his head, There were about a thousand swirling around up there, but none strong enough to come forward. It was beautiful. Open earth and open sky, a gorgeous balance of greens and blues. It felt like he was in a painting, set out under the darkening sky as the metal of the car cooled underneath them.

“Surprise.” Dean huffed, not turning to Castiel when he looked at him, his gaze focused on the point where the pink met the grass far off in the distance. The reflection was in his eyes and Castiel was sure this was what Heaven would look like. Pink flecks in dark green settled above freckles pressed onto skin. Castiel let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you.” He stated. “I don’t know how you came up with this, but this is the best thing anyone has done for me.” It shouldn’t be true, but it was. There were never gifts, never chances offered to just be in another’s company. Never this tight feeling in his chest that extended into his throat.

Dean looked at him then, looking as if there was something he wanted to say before he scrapped it for something else. “It’s not just this, Cas. Hold on.” Dean straightened and Castiel’s heart picked up its pace. He turned away; he couldn’t look at him, couldn’t make himself watch whatever it was Dean was about to do. Then, the back of Dean’s hand brushed up against his shoulder, tapping him twice to regain his attention. Despite the ball of nerves burrowed in his stomach, he obliged and turned back. Dean held a small box in his hand, unwrapped and about the size of his palm. With tentative hands, Castiel accepted the box and held it in front of his chest, willing his heart to slow down. 

Castiel tilted the top of the box open. There sat a small wooden carving, delicately etched from a chunk of wood and polished in a deep brown finish. It was shaped like a bee, tiny wings somehow strongly attached to the sides of its body, showing it could fly if it really wanted to. 

“Dean, this is-”

“You said you liked bees the other day.” Dean cut him off, eyes trained back on the edge of the sky. “Went on a whole tangent in my messages while I was at work. Felt bad I didn’t really have much to say back, so there. My delayed contribution to your strange bee obsession.” 

Castiel thought he could explode. Dean had taken him out here for a gift. A wonderful, beautifully handcrafted gift. As if being out here with him wasn’t already gift enough. 

“Dean, I-” Castiel shook his head, running careful fingers over polished bark. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say anything, man. You’ve had a rough go of things lately.” He said it as if he understood. As if even without an explanation, he could see what Castiel had gone through. 

“This is too much, Dean, I can’t accept this. I-”

Dean cut him off by raising his hand in front of his face. He held it there for a moment before turning to him. “Cas, it’s a gift. You keep those.” Castiel held his gaze. “If it helps, pick a reason to celebrate and it can be for that.”

Castiel blinked. “I… well, I did get a job today? I start tomorrow actually.” He offered up, a shy smile sneaking onto his mouth. Dean beamed back.

“Really? That’s awesome, Cas! You sure you’re ready to work though?” It should have been condescending, should have felt like he was being handled with care or treated like an infant, but instead it was just clear he cared. That warm feeling in his chest felt known again. 

“Yes, I believe I am. It’s been a couple weeks; I need to get back out there. Earn my keep.” Castiel turned back to look at the sky too. It was a brighter pink shrouded in deeper purple. Wind shook the grass along the clearing. The small wooden carving in his hands felt like the only thing that could anchor him to the Earth. Time passed and the sun descended. Colours swirled through the sky, diminishing into the charcoal of night. Stars came out, illuminating the clearing alongside the moon in the most basic act of divinity. They stayed there, sides almost touching as they lounged on the hood. They stayed until the breeze picked up and coyotes howled from the distant woods.

“Alright, let’s get you back home. I’m not the only one who has got to work in the morning now.” Dean spoke with a grin, the first to break the comforting silence and slide off of the car. Castiel quickly followed suit, finally feeling the chill of the night through his clothes. Funny how he didn’t notice it before. 

Castiel climbed back into the car, buckling his seatbelt once the door had safely cut them off from the brisk nighttime air. 

“Thank you, Dean. This was perfect. I only wish I had known the plan; I would have brought my writing.” 

Dean looked over, a confused expression clouding his face as he turned the key and the Impala roared to life. “Huh?”

“Our deal?” Dean just raised an eyebrow, mentally searching through filing cabinets for such a thing. It made Castiel laugh. A good, full bodied laugh. “If you show me things you’ve made, I would read my writing to you?” 

The clouds in his mind cleared and that familiar, hot blooded grin returned to his face. “Oh, that deal. Well I guess I upheld my end of the bargain now, Cas. You’re up next.” And then, Dean winked at him. In real life, not through possibly misconstrued text messages, but with his actual eyes on his actual face as they sat merely a foot apart. The fierce blush didn’t creep up on him. No, it slammed back onto his face like it knew it belonged there. As Castiel was struggling to breathe, Dean pulled the car back towards the dirt road. 

They didn’t talk much on the way home. The car felt charged, like there was something to be said but neither of them could say it. Without a doubt if Dean touched Castiel again there would be a jolt of electricity sent through him. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted that or not. The prospect was enticing, intoxicating to even think about. But Castiel wasn’t convinced he would be able to refrain from wanting more. In soft shared moments, it was easy. Easy to just exist next to Dean and be happy with it. Easy to be content and not be selfish in wanting more. But in the racing aftermath of what felt like a date, it wasn’t easy. Dean made him want to take chances. He made him want to scream for putting him through this. He made him want to grab him by his face and kiss those stupid irresistible lips. To press kisses into freckles on his cheeks. He made him want to do better, to be better, to get better. He made him want to try again. 

By the time the sleek black car parked in their driveway, Castiel had run though just about every possible ending to the night. There were some he favoured, some he despised the idea of, and some that seemed in the realm of possibility. 

Dean put the car in park, but didn’t say anything. The crackle in the air was still present and Castiel was scared of it.

“I had a really good time tonight.” Castiel settled on. He wanted to stay, but the longer he subjected himself to this, the more painful it would be to leave this car. 

“So did I, Cas.” There he went again. Always saying his name in almost every sentence. Castiel had never liked the way his name sounded until Dean was the one who said it. The whiskey burn of his voice addressing him was going to do unholy things to him if he didn’t get out of there fast. “I’ll, uh, be back for movie night on Sunday. I’ll send Charlie the grocery list.”

“Alright.” Castiel replied, finally gaining the strength to look away from Dean and pull the handle of the door. Dean’s hand caught his wrist as he started to stand and Castiel quickly found out how right he was. The touch was electric, sending shivers down his spine and effectively making him sit back down and bite back the noises that wanted to break through his throat. He gulped and braved a look over at Dean. His eyes were steady on him and his grip was firm even after Castiel sat again. 

“Thank you.” 

Castiel blinked. What could he possibly be thanking  _ him  _ for? The knot in his stomach tightened again. 

“What for?” He asked, voice barely able to stay above a whisper at the threat of breaking between them.

“For coming with me. For trusting me. I… I don’t know what you’ve gone through, man, but I know this might not have been easy. So thanks.” Dean finally released his grip on Castiel’s wrist, taking the lighting with him. Suddenly Castiel could breathe a little better. 

“You make it surprisingly easy, you know that?” Castiel surprised himself at the steady cadence of his voice. It sounded stronger than he felt. 

Dean just tilted his head down, pushing a breathy laugh past his lips. “I should let you get some rest. Big day tomorrow and all.” 

Castiel nodded even though Dean wasn’t looking. He stayed seated on the passenger’s side, the door open and his feet touching the gravel spread across the ground. 

“Yeah.” Castiel spoke quietly. 

“See you Sunday, Cas.” The side of his mouth was just barely upturned, a ghost of a grin close to taking his mouth. Castiel smiled back.

“Sunday.” He repeated before finally gathering the strength to stand. He stepped out of the swing of the door and didn’t look back until he was standing on the steps with his key in the lock. He turned back in time to return the wave Dean was giving him before he peeled away. The quiet encompassed him. Buzzing coming from brave insects instead of from his head. Castiel rested his forehead against the front door and breathed.

“Dean Winchester is going to be the death of me.” He spoke the words to no one in particular and opened the door.

***

Time inched forward slower than Castiel could ever imagine. His orientation went well. He had met the two staff members that were there when he came in; the grumpy brunette woman was apparently named Meg and the tired looking boy was Samandriel. They had bonded over weird biblical names, but in the end the boy insisted on being called Sam. Rowena walked him through the basics and got him all set up. He was granted his request for Sundays off on the condition that he could be called in for a morning shift if someone needed it covered. He was fine with that as long as he had the night to spend with Dean. 

The next few days leading up to Sunday were a drag. He didn’t officially start work until the next Monday, so it was back to filling the days with reruns on television and meals when he had the chance. By the time Sunday rolled around, he was greedy. He wanted to see Dean again. The man had occupied practically every thought that floated through his brain since the night in his car and time apart was certainly not making it any better. He tried not to be too obvious, but his pacing around had made Charlie suspicious by the afternoon and it wasn’t until he tried to retreat to his room that she decided to mention it. 

“What’s got you so antsy?” Charlie asked, her words cast towards his retreating back. He sighed and admitted defeat, turning back around slowly. He walked back into the living room where she was curled up on the couch and took a seat beside her. 

“I don’t…” He trailed off, searching for the right way to approach something like this. There were some things he needed to get off his chest and by now, he trusted Charlie enough to not spill anything he didn’t want spilled. “The other night. When I came home late.”

Charlie gave him an understanding nod and motioned for him to continue. 

“I-” The words kept getting caught in his throat. He just didn’t know where to start. “I was out with Dean.” 

“Yeah, he told me he wanted to do something for you, so I’d guessed that’s where you went; what’d you guys get up to?” She asked with such sincerity Castiel was sure Dean had yet to tell her about it. He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

“We kind of just went out to this big open field to watch the sunset.”

Charlie blinked in surprise. Yeah, Dean definitely hadn’t told her.

“Dean took you to watch the sunset?”

“Yes. And… and he gave me a gift. I felt bad for not having anything in return but… it was most definitely the best night I’ve ever had.” It was the truth. It would be impossible to find another night better than that one in his memories. The good days had always been few and far between, but none had been as good as that night on the hood of Dean’s car. 

“Am I… am I crazy for liking him?” The question rushed out of him before he had a chance to stop it. He couldn’t put a plug over his mouth before they spilled and he couldn’t grab them out of the air after they were spoken. Castiel flashed a panicked look at Charlie. She was nowhere near as panicked as he was. In fact, she was rather calm, a tender look in her eyes as she met his.

“You’re not crazy, Cas. Actually, I think you’d be crazier if you  _ didn’t  _ like him, especially after that. Dean is the greatest guy I know, as you’ve learned for yourself by now, I can see. There is nothing wrong with liking him.” She rested a hand on his bouncing knee to still him. 

“Do you think I have a chance?” Castiel wasn’t sure why he was asking her this. There was no way he could be a burden like that to Dean even if he did have a chance. He reminded himself of his baggage, of the weight on his shoulders and eternal ache in his bones. He wouldn’t corrupt such a righteous man. And still, he was desperate to know.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” admitted Charlie. “Dean has been through a lot himself and I think he’s got to figure himself out. But, I don’t think you have  _ no  _ chance. Dean is thick-headed, but he’s not stupid. You would be good for him.” She didn’t say any of this with a joke in her tone. She was serious. Suddenly Castiel didn’t know what to do with all of the nervous energy running through him. He dropped his head into his hands instead.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” He sighed. The hand on his knee gave him a few comforting pats. The swirling feeling plaguing his stomach slowed from a whirlpool to soft ocean waves. 

“Just keep being you, Cas. Try not to worry about it too much. If he likes you, he’ll come around.” 

The words finally put the waves at ease, simplifying down to ripples cast out by a thrown stone. He could wait. Castiel wouldn’t make any moves or be forward. If he ever thought he could even do that anyway, the ideas were now tossed out rolled down windows on the highway. He would be content with liking him from his status as a friend. Happiness isn’t in the having anyway. It’s in just being, right? So Castiel would simply be. 

“Thank you, Charlie.” He patted her hand and stood up. “Would you mind, uh, not telling Dean about this?” The words came out almost cracked, but Castiel couldn’t be bothered to clear his throat and try again. 

“This stays between us, I promise.” She held up her pinky for good measure. It was a silly gesture, but when Castiel locked fingers with her he found himself feeling better about it anyway. 

Time ticked by and Castiel wasted it away by getting cleaned up. The shower had been closer to torture than relaxation for him. Wet and bare, Castiel was helpless to stop his thoughts drifting. They focused on Dean, on his eyes, those freckles, his perfect lips. They graced over the feel of his hands and what they would feel like elsewhere. Castiel had been so sure he would never get this again, never want someone again, but he had been so, so wrong. Dean’s presence was magnetic, pulling him in like a moth to a flame. The touch of his hands felt like pure corruption and salvation in one. A strange fiery mix that danced over his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t sure whether it was torture that he was turned on thinking about it, or torture that he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it with Dean coming over so soon. Either way, the shower was long and by the end of it he was blasting himself with cold water to regain his composure. 

When he got out, he dressed and returned to the living room. He made sure to mask any hint of what he had been thinking about for the past 30 or so minutes, and instead sat on the opposite couch as Charlie and quietly listened to the show she had playing. She didn’t notice anything was up and he was thankful he still had some sense of decency.

They watched in silence until there was a quick knock on the door. By now, they knew to leave it unlocked until Dean arrived and Dean had caught on as well, opening it himself without waiting on an answer. Castiel fought to keep his breathing in check. 

“Hey guys!” Dean chimed, removing his shoes and depositing them on the mat. “You guys ready to start Indiana Jones?” 

Charlie scoffed. “What? We still have more Star Wars?” 

“We watched the main ones; I think we should switch it up.” He volleyed, rolling up his sleeves. Good God, that had no rights being so attractive. 

“All of the movies are important! Sure, the prequels aren’t as good as the originals, but they’re still important! This is blatant Padme erasure and I won’t stand for it.” Charlie folded her arms over her chest as she spoke, advocating her strong stance on the subject. Castiel was able to switch his focus to her then and he let himself smile at their exchange. 

“Alright, alright!” Dean laughed, dismissing Charlie’s outburst with a wave of his hand. “We’ll watch the prequels. But then we watch Indiana Jones. I refuse to watch the new trilogy on principle and I’m not letting Cas watch them either.” 

Charlie was laughing now too. “Sounds fair to me. I’ve seen them, but I think I’d rather watch Indy anyway.”

There was a comfortable silence that hung over them for a moment before Dean clasped his hands together. “Well, I’m going to get started.” He walked past the couches they were seated at and into the kitchen. Castiel felt a sudden pang in his chest and looked over at Charlie. She was already looking at him with a soft smile and nodded her approval to the question he didn’t even need to ask. He returned her nod, a blush painting itself on his cheeks as he stood up and followed Dean into the kitchen.

“Would you like help? I’m not exactly good at any of this, but I would like to help, if you’ll let me.” Castiel’s voice came out smaller than he had hoped, but still Dean’s head whipped around in surprise, a golden smile resting on his lips.

“Sure, Cas, come ‘ere.” He motioned with his hand to the other side of the island where he was stationed. Castiel walked around it, planting himself by Dean’s side and awaiting instructions. Dean was already seasoning up raw chicken breasts as the oven preheated and he motioned over to the fridge.

“Could you get the broccoli? You can go ahead and cut that up for me while I get this in the oven.” Dean asked, rubbing in the last of the spices and placing the chicken into a small dish. As Castiel grabbed the vegetable, Dean rinsed off his hands. Castiel came back to his spot next to Dean and started chopping, careful of his fingers. 

Dean pulled a pot out from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water next. Then he placed the full pot on the stovetop and clicked on the heat. He grabbed another, smaller pot from the same cabinet and returned to the stove as the oven indicated it was up to temperature. Dean moved around Castiel easily, as if he was possibly as aware of Castiel as he was of Dean. As he passed, Dean’s hand rested on his lower back and it took great focus not to just jump out of his skin. Castiel stilled under his touch, feeling the same sharp warmth emanating from his palm that he felt days before. And then, it was gone again, a moment so quick he couldn’t be too sure he didn’t just imagine it. Maybe it had been a fever dream. 

The chicken was placed in the oven and a timer was set. Castiel finished chopping the broccoli as Dean poured the macaroni noodles into the now boiling pot of water. 

“Need me over there?” Castiel bit his cheek in self-reprimand for that. He hadn’t meant for it to come out so… suggestive?

Dean just laughed, eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I need you, buddy. Come here.” And God, if that wasn’t just as bad. Castiel walked over to Dean’s side again, careful to avoid looking at him straight on as they stood so close. He could feel the heat coming from his body and he was beginning to regret asking to help him. It was torture all over again. 

“Want to make sure the noodles don’t stick while I start the sauce?” Dean finally asked, holding out a large plastic spoon made for just such a task. Castiel nodded and took it from him, fingers brushing briefly. The same static shock hit him again and he braved a look up at Dean. His eyes were trained on Castiel, lips upturned at the corner in a near smirk. Castiel shivered. 

He turned towards his new duty to avoid thinking about it. He could make sure this pasta wouldn’t stick. Dean huffed out a breath and returned to his own task, for which Castiel was extremely grateful. His eyes kept flicking over to what Dean was doing as he stirred away, watching him add butter and milk and cheese into the pot. He watched as Dean stirred his own pot beside him until the cheesy sauce was of a uniform consistency. 

“Want to taste?” The question was like a punch to the gut.

“Wh-what?” Castiel choked, daring to turn his head towards Dean who had a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Surely Castiel hadn’t heard him right. 

“A taste?” Dean reiterated, moving the cheesed spoon somewhat in its pot to indicate what he was referring to. Of course, a taste of the sauce. The sauce he was making right next to him. The sauce for the dinner they were making and were going to be eating shortly. What else could he have been referring to?

“Oh, uh, sure.” Castiel swallowed back his miscommunication and started to lean over for the spoon when Dean dipped his finger in the sauce and brought it up to Castiel’s face. Dean was trying to give him a coronary; there was no way he was blind to what this would do to him. Castiel looked between the dollop of cheese on his finger and Dean’s face with frantic bewilderment. Dean just grinned, raised his eyebrows, and brought it closer. Castiel gulped, and with some strange surge of confidence opened his mouth. Dean brought it closer then and- quickly changed trajectory, swiping the sauce onto Castiel’s nose. 

Castiel let out some strangled sound and Dean roared with laughter. 

“Oh, man!” Dean howled, doubling over to catch his breath. Castiel stood there, unable to process what just happened. He just blinked at Dean as he regained his composure. When Dean straightened, he swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and dared a look in Castiel’s direction.

“Oh, come on, that was funny!” Castiel just stared back. “What? It’s a cute look, Cas.”

As if  _ that _ helped. Castiel was trying to get a grasp on the situation. Dean offered a taste and instead of getting one, he got cheese on his nose. And now he looked cute? This whiplash was going to kill him. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, anything in response. 

“Okay, okay, that was rude. I get it. Here.” Dean still held a smile, but it was gentler now. Dean raised his hand again and swiped the cheese off of his nose with the same finger that plastered it there. Castiel was practically reeling, desperately trying to catch up, when Dean pushed the sauced finger into his open mouth. 

His brain short-circuited. He was certainly not in control as he lightly wrapped his lips around Dean’s finger and the sauce barely registered on his taste buds. Dean slid his finger out of his mouth, catching slightly on his bottom lip with the drop of his hand. Castiel’s chest felt like he was on fire. That charged feeling from in the Impala was nothing compared to the static in the kitchen. Dean was smiling, clearly unaffected by this whole transaction and somehow Castiel’s lips upturned on one side in return. He couldn’t even feel himself doing it.

“Well?” Dean asked, as if that wasn’t a confusing question. Well what? How’d you like the finger I just put in your mouth? How did I taste, Castiel? What on God’s green earth was he asking him about? That had been  _ obscene.  _

“Hm?” Castiel managed. Dean laughed again and the flare in his stomach intensified again.

“The sauce, Cas. How was it? Does it need anything?”  _ Oh.  _ Dean was asking about  _ the sauce?  _ After  _ that?  _ Of course he was. 

“Ah, uh, it’s great Dean. Maybe uh, maybe more salt?” He tried to come back to his body, tried to sound coherent, but his voice cracked some anyway. Dean just nodded and continued on with dinner as if nothing just happened between the two of them. Castiel tore his eyes away from Dean, instead turning his focus back to the noodles he was supposed to be monitoring. He was thankful that during his next stir there were still none stuck to the bottom. He was surprised to see that they were done already, and he moved to the sink to strain them without another word to Dean. 

Castiel didn’t want to let on how much he had liked that. He poured the noodles into the strainer and rested the pot on the counter as he ran water over the noodles to keep up his job at not allowing them to stick.

“Alright, now just to put it all together and bake. Ready?” Dean asked him. 

“Uh, yes.” Castiel finally composed himself again, bringing the noodles over to the skillet pan Dean had set out. The timer beeped and Dean removed the chicken from the oven but didn’t turn it off. Instead, Dean took over and quickly combined everything into the skillet. The chicken was shredded and added into the now sauced macaroni. Broccoli was mixed in next and then it was topped off with a small layer of cheese and breadcrumbs before Dean slid the skillet into the oven and switched it to broil. 

“I can grab the bowls.” Castiel blurted, going ahead and doing just that. As dinner finished up, he gathered bowls and utensils, setting them out near where they would be dolling out servings. Dean stayed close by and Castiel was intensely aware of his proximity.

When the oven beeped yet again, Dean removed the skillet and finally turned off the oven. 

“Charlie, it’s ready!” Dean called, spooning out a third of the final dish into each of the three separate bowls. She marched in, sending Castiel a mischievous grin as she snatched her own.

“Thanks, you guys.” She practically hummed.

They all filed back into the living room and sat down in their usual places. This time, Charlie pressed play without her usual fanfare and Castiel was thankful for the excuse to just dig in. 

The movie played on, and Castiel found himself easily distracted. He liked this Anakin kid and was more intrigued by the politics in this trilogy. They ate until the food disappeared and watched until the credits rolled. When it finished, Castiel surveyed the room to see how tired the others looked and when he was sure they were sufficiently awake, he asked if they could watch the next one. They all agreed and Charlie let the second one play.

He didn’t like it as much as the first one, but he still found himself enjoying the story. Sat next to Dean, he brought his legs up underneath him and dared to lean close. He was hyper aware of his breathing, focused more on their proximity than the movie playing in the background. Halfway through, he gained the courage to rest his head against Dean’s shoulder. It was nerve-wracking, but he was just going to chastise Dean for the kitchen incident if he had anything to say about it. Luckily, he said nothing, and instead Castiel felt the comforting pressure of Dean’s head falling to rest on his own. They stayed that way, close to cuddling, but not quite, through the rest of the movie. 

“Whew! One more to go then we’re done with Star Wars. How are you liking the prequels, Cas?” Charlie chimed as the credits began to roll. He lifted his head from Dean’s shoulder, pointedly not checking Dean’s face for his assessment of their lounging position, and stretched.

“I like this set a lot. Though I don’t understand the point of Jar Jar, I find him an entertaining addition to the series.” 

Dean laughed at that and stretched himself out. “Of course you’d like Jar Jar.”

“Do people normally dislike him?” Castiel asked, confused. Sure, he didn’t exactly fit in with the feel of the show so far, but he was interesting nevertheless. Plus he didn’t fit in whatever crowd he was in-his home or elsewhere- and Castiel could relate to that at least.

“People generally hate him, Cas.” Charlie piped up. 

“Oh. Well, I guess I am an outlier then.” 

Charlie was the first to get up from the couches this time, walking around the room to gather plates and depositing them in the kitchen to deal with later. She came back in as Dean was rising to his feet, leaving Castiel as the last to get up. 

“Well, I guess I should get home before it gets too late. All of us have work tomorrow now.” Dean nudged Castiel with his foot and he smiled up at him shyly. 

“Yeah, get home safe, alright?” Charlie told him as she walked over and accepted the hug from his outstretched arms. Castiel watched as Dean held her close and placed the usual kiss atop her head. She sighed and removed herself from his grasp, leaning back to pop her back as she did so. 

Dean turned towards Cas and held his arms open, as if it should be clear by now that Castiel gets hugs too. Cas tried to bury the smile on his face but it couldn’t be hidden. He got up and walked over to Dean, settling into his chest like he had before, like he belonged there. Dean was warm and smelled like home. The arms wrapped around him held him tight and close to his chest. Castiel could feel the soft press of lips in his hair and he knew now that he hadn’t been crazy last time. 

Dean pulled away and headed over to the door to lace up his boots.

“See you guys next week.” Dean said as he pulled the door open. 

“Later!” Charlie called, making her way to the kitchen to clean up.

“Goodbye, Dean.” Castiel spoke. His voice strained with a new kind of pain. Dean just held his gaze with a sober smile and stepped out onto the porch. The door closed between them and Castiel stayed right where he was as he listened to the start of the engine and the crackle of gravel under wheels. He stayed in his spot until Charlie emerged from the kitchen again and petted him on the shoulder before heading off down the hall to her room.

By the time he made it back to his bed, Castiel was exhausted and his mind was racing. Lucky for him, sleep dragged him under before his mind could settle on a single thought to freak out about. That night, he could see in his dreams again. He saw the rolling fields and felt the strong breeze through his hair. He felt the brush of hands and the feel of lips. For the first time, Castiel remembered no pain, felt no knives at his back and heard no words slung his way. There was only the intoxicating pull of Dean and his heart was sure he had finally found peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That was a long one! Sorry guys but it had to be done. Our boys deserve a little cuteness and a little mischief. I hope you guys liked this one! Next time is going to be a little heavier...


	8. A Change of Scenery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I managed to get this one done on time! Hoping to keep up this energy but at 2 days in I already had to drop a class, so we'll see. >< Anyway, this one got.. kind of heavy, so go to the end notes for the warnings if you need them! <3

Castiel’s first real shift went about as well as it could have. Rowena had him at the registers all day with Meg while Samandriel walked around the store offering assistance, fixing the shelves, and bringing out new books to replace the ones that were purchased. Being next to Meg all say and having to learn the ropes from her, he found that he didn’t dislike her company as much as he thought he would. Turned out she was sharp and quick-witted, always calling him names yet finding a way to make them sound endearing. She wasn’t too happy about it, but she taught him just about everything there was to know about the job.

Thankfully, being a cashier at a bookstore wasn’t too terrible of an occupation in the first place. Towards the middle of his shift, Rowena even let him join Samandriel in walking the floor. He stepped alongside the teen as he paced through the rows of shelves and offered help to anyone struggling to find what they were looking for. Cas even had a few chances to recommend a favorite or two to an indecisive customer. It made him miss his old room, lined in hardbacks from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall. Cas couldn’t begin to tell you the amount of books he has read, but if you ever asked about a story in a desperate search for the title, he could easily picture the shelves in his mind and pluck the exact story from the painted wooden beams. 

On his break he had even started to make a list of the books he had collected that sat abandoned in the old space. Only abandoned if they hadn’t been burned, that is. Cas had a piece of paper smoothed out over the table in the break room and a barely sharpened pencil grasped in his hand. He scribbled out name after name, authors he loved and important works of fiction. His mind kept offering them up, as if he was being quizzed on a game show and had come extensively prepared. Vonnegut, Orwell, Brontë, the list kept growing. He ran out of room after a few frantic minutes and flipped the paper to the other side to keep going. 

He was then interrupted by Meg, who apparently got her break around the same time he did. She made some quip about what he was doing and once properly informed of his current undertaking, promptly laughed at him. She didn’t interrupt him any further after that though, so he supposed it was okay. When he ran out of room again on the flip side, Castiel figured that would be a good enough start. Rebuilding his book collection was going to be the first thing he did when his money was his own again. 

The shift had ended and Castiel got off after the sun had set from the sky. His walk home was illuminated only by the moon and the streetlights that dotted the pavement. His breath was visible in puffs that floated past his lips and trailed behind him as he walked. September was almost over now and you could really feel it in the crisp Autumn air. The beginnings of fallen leaves crunched delicately under his feet every few steps. 

By the time he reached home, he was exhausted. Charlie joined him for dinner like always and they went to bed not long after that. The next few days were much of the same. Castiel’s new job was panning out to be fairly easy and even somewhat enjoyable. Mostly, he worked with Meg as Samandriel was still in school and he found himself enjoying her company more and more. She wasn’t exactly friendly, but she was interesting and loud, something Castiel was not. She even stood up for him when a customer got rude over a refund. She kicked them out with no hesitation when Castiel began to fold in on himself but didn’t mention a thing once the incident had passed. So, Cas didn’t mention it either.

By his third shift, Cas was trusted to be on his own with help just around the corner if he needed it. That day had been particularly slow and it turned out he did just fine on his own. He wrung up the books of the occasional customer and walked through the shelves to restock if needed. By his last shift of the week, he felt like he had a pretty good hang of it all. Samandriel was with him for that shift, mostly leaving Cas to the register, but it had been a nice change of pace from Meg. Sam was soft spoken and seemed to take a liking to Cas almost immediately. Though he didn’t know why, Cas took it as a sign that he was fitting in well enough. It made him just a little more comfortable at his job and like he had really found a home in Lawrence. When he finally got home that Friday night, he was tired beyond belief but couldn’t shake the grin from his face.

“What’re you thinking about?” Charlie asked suddenly from the couch opposite of him. Cas whipped his head up to meet her eyes. 

“I just… I really like it here, Charlie.” He admitted. Lawrence wasn’t big, but all he had gotten since arriving had been kindness after kindness. It seemed the whole town was made of it, planting the seeds of it in their young and graciously cultivating it to extend to others. Like it was the most commonly traded good in the community. If he was honest, Lawrence held just about everything he would have dreamt for in a home. 

Charlie’s face lit up when he confessed. “I’m glad. I was really hoping you would.” She was smiling right along with him and Cas could feel the warmth that radiated from her like a space heater from across the room. 

The television was turned on then, this time with Castiel winning and Dr. Sexy being aired. Eventually, Charlie moved couches and curled up next to him. It was surprising how easy this felt. Cas had never really gotten to know what family felt like. Sure, he had Gabriel in a sense now, but even they weren’t that close. Of course Gabe cared about him -enough anyway- and checked up on him, but they had never really had any of those typical ‘brotherly’ experiences. His other siblings had been much worse and after his mother’s death, his father was the farthest thing from what you could call family. But this? Sitting on the same couch, pressed next to someone who quite possibly cared for  _ real _ ? This felt like family. Charlie was warm in a way that he had never felt and he wanted to latch onto this feeling of acceptance more than anything. Here in her home, it felt like he could be himself. Like he would have people in his corner. He was sure that this was the closest he would ever feel to family.

Thinking about family made his mind wander. He wondered what Gabe was doing, if he had had to talk to his old boss or if he caved and told Balthazar yet. He wondered where on Earth his father could be and if his other siblings were happier now without him. He wondered if April and the others had remodeled his room already or if they were using it for other sinister purposes. Castiel shook his head to clear those thoughts. They were sequestered away, shelved into boxes and pushed into cupboards. His mind produced an image of Dean then; an offering to cleanse the brain. He could picture Dean in the kitchen with him, dipping his fingers into the pot again and holding it close to his lips. He could feel the hard press of his steadying hand into his shoulder. The pictures conjured up were comforting, a much appreciated placeholder to stop the wandering of thoughts, but Cas wanted it for real again. 

With Charlie curled up against his side, her eyes still glued to screen, Cas pulled out his phone from his pocket in the most discreet way he could manage. He peeked down at her just to be sure she wasn’t stealing glances, then typed out a message for Dean.

**_To: My Saviour 7:47 P.M._ **

**_Hello, Dean._ **

Castiel wasn’t quite sure what he wanted out of the conversation, just simply that he wished to speak with Dean. Even if the conversation was through virtual methods, it was still with Dean, and that was what he wanted more than anything right now. It was a Friday night though; Dean always went out with Benny on Fridays after work. He told him as much over their various texts throughout the week. So, he must have gotten lucky that Dean was checking his phone.

**_From: My Saviour 7:49 P.M._ **

**_What’s up Cas?_ **

Cas wasn’t really sure what was ‘up’. Mostly, he missed Dean and really just wanted to talk. Not about anything in particular. Though, he did wish he could hear his voice rather than read messages on a screen. Before he could figure out what he should say, his phone buzzed a second time.

**_From: My Saviour 7:50 P.M._ **

**_Actually was just about to text you. Wanna hang out tomorrow?_ **

Well, that was unexpected. He didn’t even have to consider the offer, his answer was a given.

**_To: My Saviour 7:51 P.M._ **

**_That sounds great, Dean. What would you like to do?_ **

Cas wasn’t sure why he could feel the butterflies dancing around in his stomach; Dean was nowhere near him at the moment. They fluttered through him almost constantly now, a residual shaking in his chest extended to his stomach that warmed up his features and flushed him down to his chest. 

Castiel drew his eyes away from his phone and flicked them over to Charlie who was, for all intents and purposes, looking at him with the most shit-eating, know-it-all, little sister type of grin that physically made him look away at the first second of eye contact.

“What’s that face for?” Charlie said slyly, as if she didn’t know by now what his various faces meant. She was toying with him, clearly.

“I- You-” Cas paused to clear his throat, “Nothing.” 

Charlie’s grin just widened. “Nothing, huh? Liar. Lemme see.” She reached over towards his hand with lightning speed, fingers brushing over Cas’s as his own wrapped tighter around the phone. Cas raised his arm defiantly out of her reach and she ended up falling over his lap when her knee slipped out from under her. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, light and airy, causing another to spark through Cas’s chest too. They sat in a small heap on the couch, Cas’s hand still dangling out of her reach in case she got a second wind, and laughed. 

“Oh come on, Cas! You gotta let me see!” She dropped her hands and whined, the giggle still inflected in her tone. 

“I have ‘gotta’ do no such thing.” Cas tried to make his voice sound stern, like there was no way he would budge on the subject, but it came out weary, selling the idea that he just needed a little more persuasion on the subject. He wasn’t sure which was correct.

“Caaaaas…” She tilted her head back into his chest this time, and suddenly Castiel was powerless. Telling her ‘no’ at this point would be about as hard as denying a child their dessert.

Cas let a small sigh escape his lungs and he pushed her up back into a proper sitting position. She held a triumphant grin on her lips and Cas managed a good disappointed squint in her direction before he brought his phone back between them in defeat. By the time they were both looking at his phone, there were a few more messages pinged brightly on the screen. He let her see the very brief conversation from before her interruption prior to opening the new additions. 

**_From: My Saviour 7:55 P.M._ **

**_Well I was thinking you could come to my place?_ **

**_From: My Saviour 7:55 P.M._ **

**_You know if you want to_ **

**_From: My Saviour 7:56 P.M._ **

**_We can watch movies or something if you want_ **

**_From: My Saviour 7:57 P.M._ **

**_Or we could go somewhere else if you don’t wanna come over thats fine_ **

“You had better answer him before he thinks you either died or hate him, Cas.” Charlie quipped the second they both caught up on reading the pileup of messages. “What are you going to say?” she followed up slyly. Cas now understood how older siblings in normal households felt. 

“I was probably just going to say yes.” Cas replied, his tone even as he tilted his phone away from her prying eyes to press his fingers over the keys. He told Dean that coming over to his place would be great and that he could be ready whenever he wanted tomorrow. Dean suggested Cas stay overnight as well to keep movie night going, a message he then  _ had  _ to show Charlie when Dean told him to let her know about the venue change. She gave him another one of those knowing smiles and nodded her agreement to the plans. 

Charlie prodded him a few more times throughout the evening, sending playful jabs his way or nudging his side to see if he would show her the newest message that came his way. He let her see a few in the beginning as Dean’s responses were quite amusing, but as the night wore on, he continued the conversation without her being privy to it.

Even when he laid down in bed that night, he was still texting Dean. Since Dean was out, he was very awake, and even though he should have had company with him, he never missed answering a text. The conversation kept going until well after midnight when the heavy pull of sleep was dragging Cas’s eyelids down. The screen hurt to look at and it was getting hard to read with only one eye open, so eventually Cas bid Dean goodnight with the lingering promise to see each other tomorrow. Phone safely tucked away in the bedside drawer, Cas’s mind hovered around the possibilities of the weekend. Dreams popped to the surface and he entertained them briefly before trying to dispel them with something more realistic. As he was slowly growing more accustomed to, sleep was pleasant that night for Castiel. 

Morning came slowly, routines now familiar just occurring around him. His phone stayed heavy in his pocket as he made his way around the house. He could feel it there, the pressure against him enough that he would be able to feel the buzz of it if it happened. It stayed there, hidden behind the layers of fabric that protected it as he and Charlie had breakfast. It rested on the counter in the bathroom, nestled on top of his discarded clothes as he showered. He assessed himself again out of habit, the wounds now sufficiently sealed and the bruising all but gone. The sight of his body in the mirror was finally starting to bother him less; he looked more like he used to, but also so different. There were creases by his eyes now, faint, but a small sign he had been smiling more. His muscles weren’t as toned as they used to be since he hadn’t been able to get back into working out yet, but maybe he would be able to change that soon. Turning in the mirror, he took himself in. Despite the fading injuries, Castiel was finally looking better. 

The phone returned to the lined fabric patch of his pants after he was finished in the bathroom. He paced between his room and the living room, joining Charlie on the couch for the occasional episode she roped him into watching. He waited as patiently as he could for his phone to go off, for Dean to be ready or to be outside waiting for him. Unfortunately, the longer he waited, the more nervous he became. He knew Dean had said they would be doing movies tonight, but Charlie was only joining for Sunday’s continuation of routine. They would be alone, in his home, and Cas felt like a teenager on a first date. Despite the obvious detail that this was NOT in fact, a date. It was simply two friends spending some time together.

Cas was deep in thought, mind wandering into dangerous territory, when the device stationed in his pocket finally, mercifully buzzed. He pulled it out of it’s spot so fast it made Charlie look over, eyeing him with suspicion. He tossed her a sheepish smile that she reluctantly accepted before turning her attention back towards the screen. Thankful for her leniency, the blush on his cheeks ramped up as he opened the message. Dean informed him that he was on the way and to wait outside for him, so he rushed to his room for his bag and returned to the living room in record time, expertly avoiding Charlie’s amused gaze.

“You two have fun. Just not  _ too _ much fun. And, uh, let me know if plans change and I’m not needed at movie night tomorrow, ‘kay?” she finished her miniature lecture with a wink and Cas shook his head before slipping out of the door to sit on the front steps. The air outside was a little colder than he remembered it being during his walk home from his last shift, but it had yet to leave frost upon the grass. He focused on the sway on the blades as the breeze brushed over them, remembering the way they looked flush against the stars. He was so lost in thought, vision fixated on the soft movement of the earth, that he barely registered the telltale purr of the Impala’s engine. An eager smile overtook his lips as the car rolled over the gravel to a stop in front of him. Dean was stationed on the driver’s side, a wide grin on his mouth as he waved to Cas to get in. After a brief delay in brain function due to said smile, Cas obliged, pulling himself to his feet and striding over to the passenger’s side. The bag was discarded by his feet by the time the door was pulled closed. 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice would never be anything but soothing to Cas’s ears. First words spoken always felt smooth like butter, and by now, Cas reveled in the way Dean said his name. He effortlessly stripped away the part of his name that belonged to his father and made it something all his own. For the first time in his life, he didn’t hate his name.

“Hello, Dean.” he muttered his greeting in return, eyes unable to turn away from the enticing view of his lips until Dean refocused his attention out of the windshield and pulled out of the driveway. 

“So, I was just gonna order pizza tonight, if that sounds alright to you?” Dean suggested.

Cas nodded his assent, and after a quick turn of Dean’s head, he confirmed it verbally as well. “Pizza is good with me.”

“Sweet. And I was thinking that instead of Indiana Jones tonight, we could watch one of my other favorites. That way we can finish the last prequel tomorrow with Charlie and she doesn’t have to miss out on Indy either.” Dean rambled off his thoughts.

“So, what is it you want to watch tonight?” Cas didn’t miss that it would be a favorite, but he was sure he didn’t just miss the title. 

“Oh yeah, it’s called The Fifth Element. Probably seen that movie about as many times as I’ve watched Indy.” he admitted with a chuckle. 

“I’ll admit I’ve never heard of it, but as a favorite, I am looking forward to it.” Cas looked over at Dean then, catching the briefest of glances thrown his way. 

“Good.” Dean said with a weak smile and an airy huff of breath. Cas couldn’t exactly read his expression from his position beside him, but if he had to guess, Dean looked a little embarrassed. Since he wasn’t sure why that would be the case, he decided to leave it be and the rest of the drive was made in a comfortable quiet accompanied by soft litanies of music through the speakers. 

From the outside, Dean’s house looked like almost any other on the block. It was painted a light grey so as to not stick out but if you looked for too long you could start to see all the imperfections chipping away at the exterior. The yard was a little overgrown, scraggly bushes lining the panels. Windows were sun-faded, spots of lingering condensation peppering them from the inside. To any passerby, it would look normal, an older home that simply wasn’t as taken care of as the rest, but to Castiel, it merely looked lived in. Cas watched Dean get out of the car, following right behind him up to the front door, bag in hand. The brass handle turned under Dean’s knuckles, giving way into the house.

There was always something enlightening about being in someone’s house for the first time. To glance around the open expanse of the living room that swallowed you the moment you passed the threshold. There were photos everywhere, small and framed in ornately carved wood. They showed images of a family, a beautiful mother alongside a stoic father. In some of those, there were children as well. A small boy with shaggy ashy blonde hair and an infant held safely in the mother’s arms. There were more yet of just the mother, all glowing and bright in soft looking dresses, and then there were those without any trace of her. Those were of the boys, rarely accompanied by the father and throughout various stages of their lives. Looking through them all was like watching a silent film paint him a picture and without having to ask, Cas knew the mother must have passed. It made him ache with familiarity, but he kept his revelation to himself.

Another thing about a first time in someone’s home is the all-encompassing smell of them. The scent that you get a fraction of in a hug or from a piece of clothing. It was everywhere inside, providing a stable origin for such a thing. To say it was relaxing would be an understatement. Just being inside was like being swathed in a familiar comfort. Cas’s shoulders eased their tension because of it. 

“So, uh, welcome to my humble abode, Cas. Mi casa es su casa.” Dean said with a ceremonious wave of his hands, gesturing around the room. Cas gave him an odd look for the switch to Spanish, but still offered a smile at the welcome. 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

There was an awkward share of laughter for a moment before they settled on the couch. Most of the day had passed to distracted waiting, so practically as soon as they were seated, a low grumble rumbled from Cas’s stomach. The sound merely produced more laughter and Dean reached for his phone.

“Guess there’s no harm in ordering now. What do you want on yours?” Dean asked, already dialing the number he clearly had memorized into the keypad of his phone. 

“I usually go for ground beef and pickles, but I am curious to know whether you have peanut butter and jelly.” Cas replied, a hand now draped over his stomach in a feeble attempt to stifle any more rumbles. Dean raised a brow at his answer, opening his mouth as if to make a comment but shaking his head to stop himself.

“Cas, why do you need peanut butter and jelly when we’re ordering pizza?” It sounded now like he was straining himself trying not to laugh.

“It is a surprisingly good addition to the burger pizza, Dean,” He deadpanned. Dean just laughed more.

“You know, you can be pretty weird, Cas, but I’ll make sure you get you your abomination.” He breathed out another sharp laugh and rolled his eyes as he brought the phone up to his ear to cut off any potential rebuttal from Cas. Cas didn’t mind though since he didn’t really have any rebuttal planned. He didn’t mind if Dean thought he was weird; it’s not like it wasn’t true. Dean talked cheerily into the device, reciting his address and order, cringing a little when he spoke Cas’s despite the playful smile on his lips. He didn’t mention the peanut butter and jelly in the order as those were clearly not offered toppings, but his face still displayed his doubt over Cas’s pizza preferences. When the call was over, Dean shook his head and stood up from the couch. 

“Want a beer?” Dean asked as he sauntered into the kitchen. Cas shouted his assent back so he wouldn’t have to get up from his comfortable spot on the furniture. The couch was worn, clearly been used for many years, but still had enough of a cushion to where you couldn’t feel the springs digging in. It was as lived in as the rest of the house and it only served to make Cas feel more at home. He could hear the opening of cupboards and the hard pull of a fridge door before Dean returned to the living room, hands full. Cas watched as he set down the jars that contained his peanut butter and jelly alongside the cold, already opened beers.

“Thank you.” Cas spoke as he reached for the bottle closest to him. His hand wrapped around the neck of it, cold condensation wetting his fingers. The chilled glass hit his lips and he took a small drink of the aggressive liquid as Dean did the same. 

“So have you always put PB and J on your pizza or is this some strange ploy to get me to try something nasty?” Dean joked, bringing the bottle down to rest on his knee as he looked over at Cas.

“I’ve done this since I was little, but I do welcome you to try it.” Cas said back, an easy smirk playing on his lips before taking another sip. Dean’s eyes dropped to his lap and he shook his head, soft laughter escaping his mouth. 

“You must have been one weird kid then, huh, Cas?” jabbed Dean playfully.

He hadn’t thought too hard about his childhood in a long time. Those boxes had been sealed shut with packing tape since he saw any of his brothers last. But wind was blowing through the attic filled with sealed off memories now and the adhesive on the tape was wearing thin. To outsiders, he  _ had _ been a weird kid. Hell, compared to the rest of his family there had always been something wrong about him; something off. Cas could remember the last words his father spoke to him clearer than a bell. Those words were the one thing he could never seal away; the one constantly resurfacing memory that was always burning a hole in the back of his brain.  _ -but not you, Castiel. Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.-  _ It was a frequently appearing mantra spoken in the exact cadence of his father’s unforgettable harsh voice. Castiel had never been right, had never been worthy or loved or safe. Familiar prickles of goosebumps rose on his skin as the voice echoed in the chambers of his mind again. His brain wanted to convince him he was in danger again, that the second he turned, the moment he took his focus off of that voice, the searing, blinding pain of the silver blade would be there. It was too much, it was all too much and-

“Cas?” Dean spoke softly, his hand hovering above Cas’s shoulder, hesitant to touch but ready to bring him down to Earth. “Cas, buddy, hey. You okay? I didn’t mean anything by that, alright? Cas?”

Castiel came back to himself at the press of Dean’s hand. It was grounding, like being summoned by some witch’s spell back into his body. He could feel the tracks left by tears that had run down his cheeks without his consent and his jaw felt tight. Slowly, Dean leaned forward to try to catch Cas’s eye, what should have been a hopeless attempt but instead was exactly what Castiel needed.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice came out hoarse, nothing like it sounded just a minute ago-if that had only been a minute ago. His brows furrowed.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s words came out in a flush of relief, anchoring Cas. “What just happened?” Dean still kept his hand on Cas’s shoulder, a constant steadying pressure that allowed Castiel to speak. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, Cas. Hell,  _ I’m  _ sorry. Did I do that?” The worry in his voice was more evident now, prominently coming through as shivers in his tone. It hurt just as bad to hear. 

“Dean… I…” Cas swallowed hard, unsure where to go with this. He had been so sure he never wanted them to know, never wanted them to have any insight into his past. Not knowing meant there was no way for them to hurt him with it, no fuel for any possible fire started on him. But the wind in the attic was abrasive and it was only so long until the tape peeled back on its own and did he really want to be alone for that?

“My childhood was… less than pleasant.” He started bluntly. He didn’t want to give himself a chance to back out now. He looked over at Dean whose eyes were trained on him, brows furrowed in concern but not looking to stop him. Fingers pressed into his shoulder urged him on, tiny pools of strength seeping through his shirt beneath them. 

“I… My mother died when I was very young.” There was no proper way to begin this, no right course to lead Dean through. The world had always seemed to happen around him before making it to Lawrence, he had always felt like he had never truly experienced what he had until he could feel the events return in his dreams. It was almost like they were more vivid there, more realistic, as if the real events were only a dull memory revitalized when he fell asleep. He never had to doubt if they happened, though, there were scars to prove it.

Dean nodded in understanding. “Mine did too. I was four when she died; carried my little brother out of that burning house myself. So, I get it.” It was an oversimplification of the events, Castiel was sure, but he felt for Dean. It was strange to have his earlier suspicion confirmed so soon when he had desperately hoped he would be wrong. What a sad thing to have in common.

“I…” Castiel started again. He couldn’t seem to find the right words. Every time he formed a sentence in his brain to illustrate his life to Dean, it all seemed to fall flat. It was dangerous territory to begin with, but he was worried he would sound like he was exaggerating or begging for pity. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Cas.” Dean spoke up again, voice low but soft, wisping around him like feather-light fog. “But I’ll listen if you do.” 

Castiel nodded and settled back into the couch, back pressed into the corner with the small pillow now tucked on his lap. Holding it would be a comfort and it was almost as helpful as Dean’s hand that now rested on his knee.  _ It’s safe here. It’s okay to tell him. He won’t hate you.  _ The thoughts jumbled around in his brain like the letters ‘DVD’ on an idled television screen, sorting through his thoughts as they left a trail of their encouragement. 

“I don’t really know where to start.” Castiel confessed quietly.

“You already started.” Dean responded with a comforting smile. “Would it help if I asked questions? Or would you rather just wait until you find a spot?” The hand Dean had on Castiel’s knee pressed down just a little, the pressure nudging Cas to hear him. 

“You can ask. I think… I think that would help. Thank you.” There had been too many thoughts, too many memories in his timeline to sift through to find the beginning. Too much had happened that he wasn’t sure what was appropriate to say. If Dean asked him, he could answer. Plus, Cas wouldn’t necessarily have to reveal anything deeper than that if he didn’t want to.

Dean’s lips tightened into a line, his jaw muscles flexing and his eyes dropping to where they rested on Castiel’s knee. “You said you lost your mom. How’d it happen?” Once the question was in the air, Dean brought his eyes back up to Castiel’s searching for any hint of discomfort as a tell to stop. 

Castiel just took a breath. “Cancer. She died when I was six. I think the rest of my family handled it much better than me.” The corner of Castiel’s lips upturned ever so slightly in a sad almost-smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“How big of a family do you have?” The question was simple, nothing sinister or out of the realm of any normal friends’ small-talk, and yet it stung like a freshly reddened welt. 

Castiel swallowed hard. “There’s my father and my four brothers.” A simple version of an answer to a simple question.

“Do you talk to them much?” Dean’s hand pressed down again, an undulating wave of comfort to guide him along. 

“I… only talk to Gabriel.” Castiel involuntarily reached for the beer that had been slowly sweating on the table and took a drink, the cold, suddenly nasty taste moving slowly down his throat. Dean waited until the bottle was nestled back in the ring of fallen condensation to continue.

“Did something happen with your other siblings? Or your Dad?” Castiel knew from the crease lines on Dean’s face that he was worried of overstepping, but if there was ever anyone that had a chance at getting Castiel to talk, it was him, For once, no matter the pain, Castiel wanted someone to know. He wanted someone to understand. 

“My father… Father works in the ‘business of miracles’ as he puts it.” Castiel’s teeth grinded out those words. There would be no fire in his breath if his father was in the room, of that he was certain, but it was just Dean here with him. He was allowed to be angry. “When Mom got cancer, he directed all of his resources towards that. His company funneled the money towards cancer research, but it was really just a race with the clock. There wasn’t really anything they could do for her. 

“Then, she got worse; and Father got worse. He… he blames me for it. She had always been healthy before me, you know? I uh, I was the only one in the room with her when she passed. I um… I had to be the one to tell him.” Castiel was on the verge of tears again. Prickly feeling at the corners of his eyes edged the sorrow closer to spilling. But he was also angry.

“Jesus, Cas, that’s- why didn’t the hospital staff tell him? Dude, you were  _ six. _ ” Dean’s fingers tightened on Castiel’s knee, not too rough but Castiel could feel it made Dean angry too. 

“Yes, they should have. Father was-” he paused to wet his lips, “he was out with my brothers at a restaurant when she… when it happened. The-”

“Your family went out to eat and left you with her?” Dean sounded shocked.

Castiel shook his head. “I wouldn’t come with them. I didn’t want to leave her. I’m glad I didn’t.” Castiel spared a glance up at Dean to gauge his reaction but Dean’s face was a storm of emotions Castiel couldn’t quite read, so he continued on. “The hospital did try to call him, it’s just… they were eating. He never had his phone with him for dinner. I guess he didn’t check it before he came back.” He huffed out a breath, akin to a distraught laugh. “Staff sent me to the waiting room and they must have ducked out right when Father came in because I don’t remember anyone else being there when-” a choked breath, “when I told him.”

Dean was shaking his head, brows brought together in confusion and frustration; feelings with which Castiel was all too familiar.

“What happened after?” Dean asked, softening his voice from the bristly anger visible on his face. It was almost endearing the way he was holding himself back. 

“After…” Castiel sorted through a few of the boxes, peering in to try to find the memory closest to that one. “Father changed. My brothers were raised into the company, but I never was. He stopped talking to me for the most part; my brothers did too. Turns out blame is encoded in my genes.” Another laugh slipped past his lips, breathy and not very real. Dean’s jaw tightened again but he didn’t interrupt despite how hard that seemed to be.

“If I’m being honest, I preferred being ignored.”

“Cas…” Dean started as gears began turning in his brain. “Cas, did he-?” Dean used his other hand-the one not stationed on Castiel’s knee- to motion towards his own back. This time it was Castiel’s own jaw that clenched. He had both hoped he would ask yet dreaded having to answer. Dean had already seen them, it was only a matter of time until he would have asked about them anyway. Even if he wouldn’t have, Castiel was sure he would want Dean to know. He didn’t know  _ why _ he wanted Dean to know, only that he did. Dean was  _ safe _ . Dean was  _ kind _ . He just hoped Dean wouldn’t pity him. 

“Yes.” He replied simply. His voice didn’t waver, to his surprise, but his jaw was still tight. 

“Cas…” Dean said his name in a soft, sad exhale. It sounded more like pleading than pity; a solemn prayer dripping from his lips. Dean set his jaw again and met Castiel’s eyes. Deep pools of forest reflected water brimmed with concern. “Cas, what did he do to you?” When he asked his question this time, his tone matched the set of his jaw. It was firm, almost like a demand to know, but the soft press of Dean’s fingers brushing on his knee proved his words to be nothing more than a false sense of bravado.

“You know he named my siblings and me after angels?” Castiel asked, a seeming diversion from the question, but Castiel was aware of its relevance. Dean just tilted his head to the side. “My brothers’ names are Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, and Samael. I was the youngest, so I was named after a lesser angel.”

“Okay.” Dean didn’t seem to be following yet, but that was alright. They would get there. Castiel felt the anger Dean did in the press of his palm and for the first time since it happened, he felt angry over it too. He was still scared- terrified even- and nightmares were all but guaranteed at this point, but he was angry too. He had every right to be. 

“Father always used to tell me that he should have named me differently. Told me that I’m no angel. My brothers said it too. Said that I was more of a demon than an angel.” Another hiss of breath escaped his lips. “But he uh… Father-he still wanted me to be one, you know? He told me that I was broken; that I-” Castiel choked, if only for a moment, on the words as they piled up on his tongue. “I ‘came off the line with a crack in my chassis’.” He refrained from adding air quotations as he spoke, but his voice pitched just a little lower when he said it out loud and he almost cringed at the similarity of sound.

Dean’s face grimaced. Castiel didn’t want him to look that way anymore but he was so close what Dean had wanted to know. It was getting too much for Castiel; the rising heat in his chest had gone now. He really couldn’t hold onto anger for more than a minute. Now, his chest felt tight, like pressure was setting in around him from all sides as if he was being held underwater.

“He said… He said that he could fix me. That he could make me be an angel like my brothers, but I had to do what he said. Dean, I-” he broke then, a choppy, strangled sob tearing through his throat is a rasp. “I wanted so badly to be an angel.”

Dean’s arms were around him fast, pulling his wet face into his chest. Castiel couldn’t find it in him to feel bad about that at the moment. He let out another sob as Dean’s fingers rubbed soft circles onto his lower back, safely away from the marks settled higher. Dean’s other hand rested on the back of Castiel’s neck, fingers extending to tangle into his hair and press the same motions into his scalp. Dean held him for a minute, not daring to move an inch until Castiel was ready to let go. When they pulled apart, Castiel didn’t feel much better, but his voice was steadier now. 

“There was a lot of… repenting.” Though his voice was sure, Castiel suddenly wasn’t. He pushed it down. He needed to tell someone. This had been trapped in him for so long it was festering there, adding to the rot at his core. “I wasn’t let out. I had to pray all the time. I wanted… I wanted to be what he wanted me to be. He just… I couldn’t get there on my own, I guess.” Castiel stole another look at Dean; his eyes were glistening and frantic to search Castiel’s own. 

“Cas-” Dean breathed his name again. The prayer he had always wished he would be able to hear. 

“He wanted me to be an angel, Dean.” Castiel reiterated. When he searched Dean’s face this time, he could see as realization slowly dawned on him. “He wanted to give me wings.”

Dean’s mouth fell open for a moment before clicking shut. Pain and understanding washed over his features and though he tried to find a hint of pity hidden in there, he couldn’t seem to do it. 

“He-Did he  _ carve _ wings into your back?” His brows were drawn together, pain and disgust not directed at Castiel despite the fact that it felt that way to him. 

“He said he got the blade from the church. It was holy; it would make me holy.”

“Cas…”

“When he was done, he left me there. And when I woke up, he had left the company to my brothers and disappeared. I haven’t seen him since.” The story was out now. The boxes that had been sealed away since he was little were all but obliterated. It was nowhere near all there was to tell, but it was all he needed to say. The boxes could likely be resealed, at least he hoped they could, but opening them, letting someone else peek inside even for a moment had felt like the rush of cracking a joint that had danced on the precipice of popping for days. It was freedom in its essence, relief in all its divinity. 

“Jesus Christ. Cas, I’m so sorry.” Dean’s voice was soft again, hard lines on his face all but rubbed away. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Dean.” Castiel said, confusion drawn onto his face.

“Yeah, but that’s awful, Cas. Did… so why did you get that tattoo?” He jumped topics, but Castiel followed.

“The wings I had after that were my Father’s. They weren’t mine. If I was going to have them, I wanted them to be mine.”

And suddenly, everything clicked into place for Dean. The ink that had been etched into Castiel’s skin was him taking the wings for himself. It was his way of taking any semblance of power back and despite the heart-wrenching story he told, Dean was overcome with pride over him. 

“Cas, you’re amazing.” A small smile rested on Dean’s lips even though his eyes still held their solemn stance. Castiel scanned them again for the emotions he was terrified to see and once again came up empty.

“I don’t know why you would think that… but thank you, Dean.” Castiel wasn’t convinced of Dean’s words, but it was still nice of Dean to say them nevertheless. Dean opened his mouth again, but he was cut off by a curt knock on the door. He started to say something again, but stopped, instead choosing to get up to answer the door.

“Sorry for being late, guys! We threw in some lava cakes on the house, though!” The shrill voice of a woman chirping came from the other side of the threshold as soon as the barrier had been pushed aside. Dean offered her a grin and gave her the money before she handed over the boxes teetering in her arms. Dean thanked her and she scurried down the steps and back towards her vehicle. 

Dean came back to the couch and rested the boxes safely on the table in front of them. Neither of them reached for the boxes quite yet but they also didn’t really know what to say. They stayed in that limbo for a moment before Castiel gained the courage to speak. 

“Would you still like to watch that movie?” He asked weakly. He didn’t really want to go home, but he would understand if Dean didn’t want to continue the hangout after a bombshell like that. It was only fair to offer an out.

Dean whipped his head in Castiel’s direction so fast Castiel was sure he could have broken his neck. Dean’s eyes were stormy and Castiel couldn’t read them.

“Only if you want to.” Dean replied. Castiel just nodded, so Dean got up to start the movie while the pizza was still warm. 

Castiel put his peanut butter and jelly on a single slice and refrained from mentioning that he only did this because of his mother. She had always encouraged him to try new things and to make anything normal into a creation of his own. She had laughed the first time he tried his pizza this way as a child and after she passed he couldn’t bring himself to like it any other way. He somehow convinced Dean to try a bite of pizza his way, and to his surprise Dean was actually a fan of it. Castiel grinned with Dean as he conceded that Cas’s taste buds weren’t as skewed as Dean had previously thought.

They sat together, legs close enough to touch through the duration of the film. Dean got excited around the time the blue lady started singing and despite Castiel’s strange mood, he thoroughly enjoyed the music. Overall, the movie had been interesting. It had so many different themes to it that if it had been any other time, Castiel would have loved to pick it apart. Instead, he simply tried to enjoy it for what it was.

By the time it was over, the sun was long gone from the sky and Castiel was unable to stifle a yawn from escaping his lungs.

“You can have my brother’s old room tonight, Cas.” Dean said in response to the yawn. Castiel wasn’t exactly tired, he desperately wanted more time with Dean, less tainted with horrible backstories, but he was sure if he laid on that bed he would be out within the minute. 

“Okay.” Castiel agreed and Dean got up from his place on the couch to bring the leftovers into the kitchen. Castiel followed, empty beer bottles in hand. They cleaned up and then Dean set up some spare blankets and pillows on the empty mattress. 

“If uh, if you need anything feel free to wake me up, alright?” Dean said, voice low and head tilted towards the floor. Castiel agreed verbally to Dean’s request, but knew if he woke due to any reason, the last thing he would do would be waking Dean. Dean nodded, happy to hear Castiel accept, and strode off to his own room for the night.

What he hoped would have been an easy sleep turned sour the moment he had slipped from consciousness. He tossed and turned as he ached in his dreams. Everything he had spilled that night came back in full force behind the curtain of his eyelids. It was dark but he could feel everything; from the familiar icy pull of silver to the sharp crack of his knees hitting the hard pavement of the basement in repentance. He shivered under the trickles of blood that cascaded down his back.

When the sun came up the next morning, Castiel was drenched in sweat. His clothes stuck tightly to his body and he wished for nothing more than a shower. He stayed there until he heard Dean moving about the house though and once near the other man, asked if it would be okay if he used the shower. Dean obliged, of course-Dean was always helping Castiel now. A surge of guilt ran through him as the shower spilled coolly over his torso. He rinsed himself of the sweat and tried to get rid of the guilt as well but unfortunately that wouldn’t wash down the drain. 

When he was out, Dean made him breakfast. Castiel was keen on avoiding Dean’s eyes as they ate, but he thanked him for the meal nonetheless. 

Charlie came over sooner rather than later this time around. Castiel assumed Dean had messaged her, possibly while he had gotten cleaned up, to come early. He couldn’t shake the feeling it was because Dean didn’t want to be alone with him anymore. It hurt, but Castiel could understand. He was sure to have made him uncomfortable after everything he said last night.

When she arrived, Dean made them all sandwiches and they settled in to watch the last of the Star Wars movies on their list. Castiel paid close attention to this one so he wouldn’t have to be as present in the room.

By the time it was over, Charlie asked him if he wanted to head home. It turned out that movie day was moved up in time because she was going out on a date, but the offer for a ride home was still there. He looked over at Dean when she asked and caught another mix of emotions splaying across his face. This time though, Castiel was sure he saw the pity. He turned back to Charlie and accepted her ride.

They bid their goodbyes and Castiel dipped out of the door before Dean could offer the usual goodbye hug. He wasn’t sure he would be able to remain on two feet if he accepted it. In Dean’s arms he would surely collapse from the guilt and shame.

They got situated in the car and Charlie looked like she was about to say something, but ended up deciding against it. The drive was quiet and soft beats of music were the only sounds to be heard.

Once home, Castiel snuck away to his room. Charlie had tried to stop him; she asked him what had happened but he wasn’t ready to talk about it all again. If she knew he told Dean, likely she would be curious too; plus it would only be fair to share the story again if she knew he had been able to tell it once. So, he told her everything was fine; told her he was just tired from Sam’s creaky bed and that he just needed to lie down for a bit. Albeit reluctantly, she let him go after that. 

She told him to have a good night before she left and once the front door clicked closed behind her, he was left alone once again.

That buzz was back, incessant and angry now. It felt like a beehive was trying to break loose from his skull. The fluttering was in his chest again and for the first time in a long time, he could feel the cutting at his back while he was awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Descriptive depictions of abuse and dissociation.   
> Cas finally starts to talk about what happened to him, so tread lightly if you're worried and take care of yourselves <3  
> -  
> On a happier note, Castiel's pizza idea came from this video! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDE4qsXfXqs if you need something lighter after this, this is very cute :)  
> I love you guys and I hope I'm able to stay on track for next week! <3


	9. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Castiel had told Dean was huge. Monumental even. And now, Castiel was reeling from all that came with a confession of that magnitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but it's a little glum, so I'm okay with that haha  
> Please check the end of chapter notes for warnings on this one!

The days that followed were less than pleasant. Soft September breezes shifted into still October air. Leaves began to cover the ground in earnest, providing crisp crunches under the footfalls of anyone walking along sidewalks or pathways. October had a different feel than September; it was quieter, fewer winds to rattle your bones, but colder as the temperatures steadily began to drop in anticipation of Winter.

Castiel never usually gave much regard to the passage of time, the changing of seasons. The world moved around him, continuously spinning, paying him no mind. He liked it that way. When the universe ignored him, he was safe. No spotlights lingering over him to draw the attention of passersby, no happenings to alter his own predestined course. At least, the course he had  _ thought _ he was destined for. 

As a child, in the fleeting years before his mother passed, his course was to be good. Mother had always given him his meals with an easy smile and a soft hum of forgotten choruses, but she had always told him to be good. When his father informed them they were like angels, he had believed him. He was too young to differentiate angels from true purity and goodness. The weeks leading up to his mother’s death opened the doors to his next course of destiny. He was to be righteous, to be pure, to be a living angel amongst men despite his father’s adamance he was unlike his brothers. He was to alter himself into something his father would approve of. To help the company, to be normal, to like women as a man should. He was to forget the goodness his mother instilled in him. He was to forget as much of her as he could. No matter how hard he tried, Castiel never quite fit into that destiny either. 

Then came the destiny of mediocracy. His father’s harm had peaked and the family was broken. Brothers laid blame on Castiel’s shoulders, as it had always been, and he lived in ways much the same. Gabriel left soon after his father and it wasn’t until years later that Castiel heard from him again. Michael and Samael fought over everything-including the company- and Raphael regularly stepped in to mediate. Castiel had been removed from company business then, merely being allowed to stay in his own corner of the large expanse of their childhood home. That’s when his brothers remaining decided to take after their father in other ways. The harm was different, but it was pain all the same. Unending and ever-increasing pain at the hands of so-called family. Castiel had hoped that all families weren’t like his.

After graduating high school, Castiel was finally freed-or, released, more like. The world was bigger and more threatening than he could have ever pictured from within the stark white walls of their home. The only person he ever spoke to in high school had informed him of his life plans and assumed it was a given for Castiel to follow. He hadn’t had the slightest clue what to do, so he went. He studied what he needed for a good paying job. He went for accounting, something by the books and brain-focused. He had secretly held onto the hope that, despite everything, a job like that could make his father proud. Thus was his destiny of mediocracy. His friend- Balthazar- had remained his friend throughout that endeavor, but he had unfortunately fallen into the wrong group while Balthazar spent a year abroad. April had been nice at first, they all were. She hung around Bartholomew’s crowd often enough that he was integrated in with them as well. They had invited him to parties, let him try their weed- which he didn’t much care for- and their booze- which he cared for only slightly more than the weed, but still wasn’t the biggest fan of. It was easy staying with them at first, then, like everything else in his life, that had turned sour and rotted. Another layer of hurt and confusion to rest over his sedimentary core. 

Now, Castiel was facing down destiny four: the unknown. The change of the seasons and the slow descent into shorter days served as markers of time and nothing more. He had been in this unknown for a month now and despite acts that resembled progress, he didn’t feel as though he was any further to finding his way out of this unknown. His job was temporary, a means to pay back those whom had assisted him since his departure from mediocracy. His friendships were, well, they were likely temporary too. His coworkers were decent people, but Castiel would never reveal anything about himself to them. At work, he was someone else, a statue at which to shout grievances and a monotonous button-presser to provide goods. He was not a friend there; he was barely a person. At home, temporary home, was Charlie. She felt the closest to family he had ever known, but abusers didn’t always wear signs displaying their attributes, but until the likely inevitability of the other shoe’s descent, she was welcomed. 

Dean was different. He had been different from the moment they met. His light green eyes and constellation-laden cheeks made his heart swell with just a look. His laugh was contagious. His smile was the sun and given the chance, he would be Icarus. He longed deeply for something with him and it ached so much more to know he had ruined his chances already. Dean was kind and wonderful, and yet divulging a sliver of his past to him had undoubtedly kicked the gears in motion that were set to turn them apart. The world had always been cruel that way, but if Castiel had ever expected anything different, he was the fool to hold the blame. Fool me once, or so it goes.

And so, September ended and gave way to October, passing the mantle to the next page of the calendar so it could deal with Castiel and his ongoing heap of issues. He was sure October wouldn’t be too happy about their charge, but it was no more October’s fault than it was Castiel’s. 

Days pressed on and he didn’t answer Dean. His phone rang a few times a day and there was a growing pile of messages accumulating on the app, but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to look at them. Not after seeing in Dean the last thing he had hoped would be there. The itching pain of pity. Pity implied inherent burden, and a burden Castiel refused to be. He needed time, he needed to give Dean space with this new knowledge about him. If he looked too soon and saw that pity again, he would have no hope to stay in Lawrence and that was the thing he desperately, selfishly wanted the most. 

The hurt was present almost all the time now; aching scars buried under a layer of ink burned in the recurrence of violent acts. He felt it more when he closed his eyes, as if with one less sense for distraction, the ache refined. Different than before were the phantom pains scratching at the surface during the day, eyes wide open, entirely aware there is no immediate danger. It was ever present at the forefront of his mind and he found it increasingly hard to pay attention at work. Thankfully, as each shift of the week passed him by, the days stayed slow. There were few customers to be had at a bookstore when the final remnants of good weather were still around. It helped to be busy and it helped to not be busy. A conundrum of occurrences to bombard his fraying brain. 

He felt the weather shift between his walks to and from the bookstore. He wanted a warm drink more than ever now, but he couldn’t afford such a regular luxury. Money was to be earned and saved to go somewhere else. When he got home each day that week, Charlie met him with sad eyes. She didn’t press him to talk about anything, but had insisted that he knew he could if there was anything he wanted to talk about. There hadn’t been. What was there to tell her that wouldn’t make those sad eyes worse? 

The final shift of the week came and went. It had been just him and Meg then and even she noticed something was up with him. To her credit though, she didn’t ask anything, instead she gave him space over his break and kept small talk down to almost nonexistent. A small blessing to end the long monotonous week.

Stepping through the front door of Charlie’s house that Friday evening was very different than the other days that preceded it. He left his only pair of shoes on the mat by the door, latching it shut behind him. His coat was peeled off and hooked up on the hook that protruded from the wall beside it. He could hear no clamoring about in the kitchen nor the static noise of the television. Fridays she worked evenings, right. 

Castiel walked through the open expanse of the home and his brain tried to make a foolish compare and contrast board. The walls weren’t white and bare, nothing like home. There were pictures displayed precariously throughout, unlike home. There was no basement, unlike home. The kitchen was large, very like home. The oven was clean, like home, and used often, unlike home. Ceilings were low, unlike home. The bathroom had tiled flooring, like home. The shower had a tub, like home. His bedsheets were blue, like home. There were four pillows upon the mattress, unlike home. His closet was full, like home. The clothes were comfortable, new and soft and only his, unlike home.

The list grew and morphed into more than just the artifacts here. His bedroom was safe, unlike home. He had privacy, unlike home. Others didn’t ask much of him, like home, but they didn’t ignore him, unlike home. People looked out for him, unlike home. People talked to him, unlike home. They fed him, they accepted him, they cared for him, unlike home.

The mental tally of alike versus unlike was surprisingly unbalanced. The things that managed to be on the alike side were superficial, ovens and colours weren’t what mattered. What was important was perspective, feelings and mechanisms that kept the house on the right side of home. 

This was a good home. It was Charlie’s home and it was slowly becoming much the same to him. Castiel attached the tallied list onto the fridge in his mind with a new magnet to keep it in place. The list didn’t help the burn to go away, but it did make him feel like talking. Maybe, when Charlie got home, he could talk to her. He could tell her all about what went down over the weekend, sparing as much of the details as he could of course. Maybe they could talk about Dean again and they could look at the messages together like last time. She could loan him some strength for a reply, or enough for a full conversation with Dean (though that would be optimistic after having basically ghosted him the last few days). She would tell him it’s okay and that Dean would be over on Sunday for movie night and it would all be back to the way it was before. 

Castiel’s bedroom was colder than the living room. Stripped down to change, he shivered. It traveled down his spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps down his stomach and arms in its wake. He lifted his arm to inspect them, letting his eyes linger over the edges of his tattoo. Scars didn’t account for goosebumps, so there were fewer to be seen in the dusky pulls of ink that traced dark patterns up delicate skin. Visibly raised skin haunted with torments and plagued by recollection guided the intricate feathers up his arms and down his back. The time spent in the tattoo chair echoed over the scars and he forced himself to remember that they were  _ his _ wings now. That was why he got them in the first place, a feeble attempt at reclaiming his body. That’s what he had told Dean, too. But the stinging pain that emanated from the bubbled skin made him wonder if it had ever truly worked. For once, he hoped that it would.

He finished getting changed and made his way back out to the living room. The buzz of silence had finally returned to its normal comfort, but that was likely because of the recent amp up of daytime nightmares. Still, Castiel would take what he could get. 

He took a seat in the spot claimed to be his and after a few minutes of deliberation over whether to switch on the television or revel in the return of his sacred silence, he reached for the remote and turned on the screen. Dr. Sexy wasn’t on, but there was another sort of medical show playing, so he left it on that and waited. The clinical sounds beeped into the room, rushed doctors in a hurry to figure out what was wrong with their fake patient in the on-screen reenactment of “true untold crazy hospital stories”. The actors were not that convincing and Castiel didn’t see the need to add drama to these terrifying situations when he was sure there would have been no such thing in the “true” versions of these events. He was debating with himself the legitimacy of the latest weird injury when the front door swung open, accompanied by the loud jangle of keys.

“Cas! Hey! I brought dinner.” The redhead said with a smile, balancing the bag in her hands as she struggled to rid herself of her shoes and jacket. The door clicked shut behind her, mercifully cutting off the influx of cold air that had managed to slip in during the brief offer of entrance. Castiel feigned a smile in return and got up to help her. He took the food from her grasp so she could remove the unwanted layers easier. The bag was warm and smelled so good he was sure he was actually salivating. 

“It’s nice to see that smile, Cas. How are you feeling?” It was the first time she had asked since he came home from Dean’s, but that made it all the more sincere. The small grin on his lips stayed there as they made their way to the couches. 

“I don’t know how I’m feeling.” Castiel answered honestly. There was so much happening in his head and strung out in his body that it had been hard to decipher  _ how _ he was. He hurt, he ached. He was tired yet couldn’t sleep. He was scared to see Dean or even think about him, but he wanted more than anything for it to be okay. He was struggling over the weight of his own past, much more than he ever had. He was terrified to tell her about it, was terrified to tell Dean more of it, but he also wanted to be rid of this pain. He was conflicted in every sense. 

“Okay, Cas. It’s okay to not know. Do you want to talk about it or just eat dinner?” she inquired as she separated their food between them. It was weird how casual it was, but Castiel was able to relax a little at that. 

“Eat, I think. For now.” 

Charlie handed over his food- an apparently very well sauced burger from the place near her work- with the soft smile still planted on her lips.

They ate quietly, the only sounds in the room besides their chewing being that of the bizarre medical show still playing on the T.V. It was pleasant, much more than the meals over the week had been. It felt easier again, like whatever strain he had over him was slowly starting to be washed down with every bite. The dinners that spanned the week had been just shy of awkward. They had made small talk rather than friendly conversation because he had been too scared he would spill everything with just the right nudge from her. She had a way of pulling the truth out of you if only by sheer force of will. He both admired and feared her for that. 

Meals finished and wrappers piled up together in the bag they came in, Charlie rested her hand on Castiel’s knee. She didn’t look at him, didn’t ask another time or push for him to be ready, she simply kept her eyes on the television, watching the gorey reenactments play out on the screen with wide eyes as her hand left the question open on his knee. 

“Charlie?” His own voice startled him. He guessed it was time.

“Yeah, Cas?” Charlie turned her full attention to him then, no lingering interest over whether the patient would be alright after such an interesting accident. Castiel cleared his throat.

“What if I messed up?” 

“How do you mean?” Her hand stayed right where it was, rested gently on his leg. He was thankful for it. 

“What if I made things worse? If I messed things up with Dean or if I made my own-” he swallowed, “my uh, coping worse?” 

“Well, if that happens to be the case, then I’m sure it can be fixed. Both with Dean and with yourself. Do you mind if I ask what happened?” When she added in the question at the end, her voice got quieter. Castiel nodded, gathering all those thoughts into an orderly pile to pull from. 

“We had pizza.” he started, “I have a uh, a weird taste in toppings.”

Charlie just nodded along, waiting for more context.

“He asked if what I wanted was a way to get him to try something gross and I told him that I had eaten it this way since I was a child. He said… he said that I must have been a weird kid, then, and I just- I froze. It didn’t uh, it didn’t feel like I was even in the room for a minute. It’s a little hard to explain.”

“I’m following.” she said with her usual easy smile; somehow, that helped.

“That uh, episode? I guess, uh, kind of led to me telling him about some of my childhood. I think it was a mistake, I-”

Charlie cut him off with a swift hug. Her arms draped over his shoulders, tentative yet firm. He let himself bury his face in her neck if only for a moment. It seemed safe there. 

“Is he the only one you’ve told?” 

Castiel nodded into her neck. 

“Then I’m glad you told him. Cas, whatever you told him, it wasn’t a mistake to do so. Did he say anything to you to make you think differently?”

Castiel thought back to it. Verbally, no, there hadn’t been anything said that necessarily changed things between them. He could just feel it in the air, could see it in his eyes. Castiel had seen pity one too many times to mistake it for something else.

“Not necessarily.” he confessed. His voice was small.

“Alright, did he  _ do _ anything to make you think that?”

Again, he hadn’t necessarily  _ done _ anything, but it was in the look, it was in his eyes. 

“Well, no, but-”

“Is there some other reason?” 

Castiel dug his face a little deeper into her neck. Charlie let him. 

“He pitied me. I could see it, Charlie. I… I do not wish for him to pity me.” Out in the open, it didn’t seem like as big of a deal. Odd. 

He could feel her sigh of relief against him as the hug continued. It didn’t seem like she was going to let go until he wanted to. He could live with that. 

“Cas, let me tell you something. Dean Winchester does not pity. Dean cares, he feels very strongly, he empathizes, and he likely felt the hurt that you were feeling. I know I can’t say for sure, seeing as I’m not him, but I know that boy better than I know myself and Dean has never pitied a thing in his life, other than maybe himself. Have you talked to him since then?”

Castiel let out his own guilty sigh and finally let himself be freed from the hug. Her hand found its way back onto his knee anyway. Comfort was a strange thing. 

“He has been trying to talk. He’s sent quite a few messages, but I haven’t answered. I think… I’m too scared to.” 

“Want to look at them together?” Her head tilted just barely with the inquiry.

“I think that would help, thank you.” 

She just nodded as he pulled out his phone. The darkened screen flashed in one corner, confirming the need to check his messages. He took a deep breath and opened them up.

Over the course of the week, Dean had sent him 26 messages in addition to the 7 missed calls. The voicemail symbol was in the top corner as well but he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to physically hear whatever Dean had been trying to say yet. 

The first message asked if they got home okay and the second confirmed that Charlie had told them they had. The next few messages were variations of his name in a question, pleading through characters on a screen to let him know he was okay. Another few had begged him to call him or to answer at all. Yet another few asking if he was alright and to at least talk to Charlie. The last one was longer and from earlier that day. 

**_From: My Saviour 3:44 P.M._ **

**_Cas, I don’t know what I did wrong, but just please tell me you’re okay. Charlie is worried about you too but at least she can see you. I’m stuck trying to make it through my shifts while all I think about is you. I’m sorry if I did something wrong and I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want but just please let me know you’re okay. Call me._ **

It was probably the biggest message he had ever received. Tears involuntarily sprung from his eyes as they swept over the words again and again, unable to fully process them into his mind. He vaguely registered somewhere that Charlie was crying too. Then, they were hugging again; a quick, strong embrace that lasted a fraction of the time the previous one did.

“See, Cas? He’s just worried about you.” Her hand rubbed small circles over his lower back and he relaxed into it. “You want to call him?”

Cas shook his head. “It’s Friday. He’s out.”

“I know for a fact he would answer you.”

Cas laughed. A tired, throaty chuckle that didn’t quite convey how he was feeling. “What would I even say?”

Charlie shrugged. “Depends what you’re meaning to tell him. Go give him a call, Cas.”

It was basically decided for him, but at this point, he was so desperate to hear the strong, honey-whiskey of Dean’s voice that he was sure he would trip in his haste to make it to his room. He stood up from the couch, Charlie following suit to give him just one more hug.

“Thank you for talking to me, Cas. I know Dean will be relieved to hear from you.” 

As he started to walk away, he paused, turning back on his heel to say one last, very important thing. “Charlie, if you want to know what I told him, it might be nice to have it off my chest again.” He didn’t speak confidently, but he was proud of himself for saying it nevertheless. Her features softened. 

“If you want me to know, I’m happy to listen. I’m proud of you, Cas.” 

Cas struggled not to let the tears flow again when he gave her just  _ one _ more hug. Eyes stinging and leftover tear tracks stained on his cheeks, he made it to his room and shut the door carefully behind himself. He took in a few shallow, stabilizing breaths, and hit the dial button before he had a chance to second guess or chicken out. The phone didn’t even make it through the first ring before it was picked up.

“Cas? Cas, hey oh my God, are you okay?” Dean blurted the moment his mouth was close enough to the mic. There was shuffling in the background, but he noticed a distinct lack of bar-like noise around him. Castiel tried not to smile, but even listening to his voice was like a balm for the soul and he had to take just the briefest of seconds to revel in it. “Cas?” Dean said again, the stress growing stronger in his voice.

“Dean.” He muttered finally, immediately hearing a sharp exhale blasted through the phone.

“Cas, fuck, it’s good to hear from you, buddy. I-”

“Dean, I’m sorry.” 

Dean’s rambling stopped short and if he had been seeing this in person he was quite sure he would be able to see the thought processes flying around in his head.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” Dean sounded close to offended, but there was worry in his tone still so Castiel tried not to pay attention to it. 

“I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you. You didn’t deserve that. And I’m sorry for not responding to your messages. I did not mean to worry you.” Cas spoke quickly to avoid interruption; he needed to apologize.

“Cas, you don’t have to be sorry for that, though I’m glad you finally figured out how to pick up the phone.” Dean laughed weakly at that, but continued on, “I’m glad you told me. ‘M not sure if you’ve told anyone else all that but if not, I’m glad it was me. I’m sorry all that shit happened to you, Cas, but I don’t think of you any different if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That was it, wasn’t it? Dean had read him like a book, a freshly opened hardback laid open on the table to break in the spine. He had told himself, was entirely convinced of it, that Dean’s view of him had been altered, twisted and perverted into one of pity and disgust. But Dean was here, or rather, he was  _ telling him _ that that wasn’t true. What was he to believe? The look in his eyes he was confident he had seen or the tender words that dripped from the lips of the saviour?

“Cas?’ 

He had gone quiet, too much whirring through his mind to form any semblance of a coherent sentence. There he goes, piling on worry after worry onto Dean’s broad shoulders. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve Castiel and all his messes.

“Cas, you there?”

“Yes, Dean.” His throat worked out the words without his brain’s permission. 

“You okay?” It was almost a loaded question now. There were so many thoughts in his mind that  _ okay _ didn’t come close, but what was he supposed to say?

“Yes, Dean.” When had his voice fallen so hoarse?

“You don’t sound okay.” There he went again, finding the right page in this book of him to read paragraphs from; fingers moving to guide the eyes line after line. 

“I… You’re right. I’m not sure I’ve been okay for a very long time.” The buzz of silence that followed pressed against him to remind him of his earlier revelation. Loneliness taints and infects, whether or not someone is there to share the silence with you. 

“But thank you, Dean.” Castiel carried on, “I think that I needed to hear that. I will let you return to your Friday night festivities.”

Dean laughed into the phone. “I’m at home.” Dean coped through endless intoxication, though Castiel wasn’t aware of that fact. He couldn’t see the bottles that took up space on the table in front of Dean or how staying home was a worse sign than going out. So, Cas smiled. 

“I see.” 

“I’ll let you get some sleep, though. Thanks for calling, Cas. See you later.” 

“Goodnight, Dean.” 

When the line went dead, Cas felt just the slightest bit better. Talking with Charlie and then with Dean had been what he needed after denying it from himself over the course of the week. He still had his doubts, those were always fighting so hard to hold onto the banisters in his mind, but they had been soothed somewhat, tamed down with kind words like damp brush to an early morning cowlick. 

Sleep was just a little easier that night too. Prickling pains were still present, but there was a soft blanket of comfort that fell over everything his mind offered up. When he fell to his knees on the cold concrete in prayer, there was a blanket around his shoulders. When blades sliced open fresh skin, the blanket was in his fingers. It seeped into the awful memories and provided just the slightest comfort. Cas had never felt so safe under that knife. 

The next morning was different in the same way the previous night had been. He had opened up again, even just barely, but he felt marginally better. There was this limbo he couldn’t quite get out of though, and he felt off still.

Charlie made them breakfast- just a simple plate of scrambled eggs and toast- and they ate together to the sound of Saturday morning cartoons. Neither of them said anything, but the air between them didn’t have the same oppressiveness it held the last few days. 

Cas spent the day replying to messages from Dean. Every time he would answer, Dean sent a message back just as fast. It was almost a game at this point, but Cas didn’t mind it. Their conversation never strayed into anything serious, never daring to get close to tough talks about the past or Castiel’s mental state, and for that, he was thankful. It was easy talking to Dean again. 

By the time evening rolled around on Saturday, Cas was feeling considerably better. When he and Charlie finished their dinner, they laid together on the couch and watched a few episodes of Star Trek. Over commercial breaks, Cas told Charlie what he had revealed to Dean the week before. They quieted down each time the program came back from its break, but between sections of shows, Cas re-lived it all one more time. 

Charlie was a good listener. She gave him her full attention when he spoke and there was always a comforting hand resting softly on his knee. It was easier to tell the second time around. He had a starting point and an ending point, so the flow was easier. He was a little more detached from it, as if he was retelling some messed up story he saw on T.V. Never once did she show the telltale signs of pity he had grown accustomed to seeing nor did she interrupt to ask questions. By the time he left off where he had with Dean, she gave him a solemn nod filled with understanding and a firm hug. 

“I’m so sorry all that happened to you, Cas.” she said, filling the quiet, awkward silence. Cas breathed a short laugh.

“Yeah, me too.” He had never felt sorry for himself, never thought at any point that he hadn’t deserved what he got, but after Dean and after Charlie, they were starting to make him believe he deserved better. 

That night, after he texted Dean his goodnight message, Cas fell asleep even easier than the day before. Dreams were still dark, but there was the occasional street light illuminating a path away from the horrors. The pathway led to the rumble of an engine and the whiskey-singed voice that soothed his soul. Even without seeing him, Dean was comfort incarnate and Cas found solace in his voice. 

When the sun broke into the sky Sunday morning and woke Cas from his restful sleep, he was surprised to see a message from Dean on his phone already. He never woke up early on Sundays, at least, for as long as Castiel had known him which, to be fair, was only barely over a month. He slid open the app and his stomach dropped. 

**_From: My Saviour 6:47 A.M._ **

**_Hey Cas, I can’t make it to movie night. You guys go ahead and watch something tho there’s a big list you gotta catch up on_ **

No movie night. At least, no movie night with Dean. From the moment he left Dean’s place last week and especially since he called Dean and got them talking again, Castiel had been thinking about the next movie night. At this point, they were a given, a universal rule that on Sundays, he got to see Dean. A rule that now had an exception. Had he been wrong? Were they actually still not okay? Had his confession been too much? 

Castiel tried to still his racing heart, but panic rose in his chest like wildfire and there was simply no putting it out. A fire with too much fuel, too much oxygen, too much heat. Despite the cold, Castiel was warm; there would be no diminishing the heat. Despite his gasps for air, there was too much oxygen; there would be no smothering the flame. Only thing to do when panic plateaued into a raging wildfire, was to wait until the fuel was exhausted. So, Castiel sat, curled up until the soft blue covers laid over his bed, face buried in the pillow, and cried until there was nothing left to give. 

He floated through the rest of the day, awake and breathing as if it was the most he could manage. To be fair, it was. Talking to Charlie when his eyes were puffy proved difficult. Eating meals with her was even tougher. He relayed Dean’s message to her, but he didn’t have the heart to answer Dean himself. Charlie put on  _ The Breakfast Club _ that night, but even for that Castiel wasn’t entirely present. He sat on the worn couch, barely connected to the world as the movie played on the screen, only able to think about the aching fact that Dean wasn’t there with them. He didn’t want to think about why, he didn’t want Charlie to ask him and to let him know and he didn’t want to ask him himself. So the movie played on and Castiel watched but barely listened. By the end of it, he returned to bed once again. The day had been short yet somehow was also one of the longest he had ever experienced. 

He longed to see Dean in his dreams again, wished with desperate shards of hope to hear his voice against the shell of his ear, but was greeted with only the wretched familiarity of horrors re-lived. He couldn’t find his way to the impala or even to his own bedroom. All that there was for him in the dim of the night and the soft chill of empty spaces was the old concrete floors of the bloodied basement. And for the life of him, Castiel couldn’t find a reason he deserved anything else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self deprecation, descriptions of violence and injuries. Please always be mindful of the content of this fic and stay safe guys!   
> This chapter was kind of heavy again, but it's going to be much better next chapter, I promise! Until next time! <3


	10. LARP and the Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel tries to be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this one is a tad late, school kind of is taking a lot out of me. I hope you like this one! <3

With the sun just beginning to cast through the window, Castiel woke up. It had been a rough night of sleep, but somehow he had managed to get a few hours in. It had been fitful and uncomfortable, but it was sleep nevertheless. He dreamt of cold rooms and racing black cars, of unseeable fears and soft rolling plains, of pressing pains and soothing hands. He dreamt of horrors and he dreamt of Dean. At every turn, Dean had been there, somehow, impossibly there. 

It hit him then, like a freight train with carts filled, that he had made everything worse again. He had sulked and fallen in on himself over the week, had turned away from those who had helped him, who continued to help him. And now, after having made up with both Charlie and Dean, he was doing it again. Caving in on himself like a collapsing mine scored through unstable rock. Was that what he wanted? To push them away again? To be alone? He knew it wasn’t, and yet again he had ignored Dean’s message and gone quiet for Charlie. Stretching his rigid body, Castiel leaned over to fish his phone from the drawer.

Last night had been awful. Guilt wracked through him over making movie night unenjoyable for Charlie when she was just as likely as he was to be upset that Dean didn’t show and again he felt guilt over not replying to Dean. He had  _ just _ made up with Dean over not answering him over the previous week and here he was doing it again. As much as he still thoroughly believed that Dean’s absence was his own fault, he wished he had answered him anyway. The phone in his hand went unblinking. There were no new messages lighting up the screen and it hit him just a little bit harder. Surely there was a reason Dean couldn’t have made it last night. What if something important came up; or worse, if he had gotten hurt? The other night, Dean had told him it was okay and he ignored it. He let himself back down into that pit and brought others down with him. Castiel had been selfish in his self-made pity party and he hoped beyond hope that he could still fix it. 

It only took a moment to type out the message, but it took another few agonizing seconds to gain the gall to press ‘send’. It wasn’t exactly a short message, but neither was it long. Castiel needed to be sure that Dean was okay, but he also needed to apologize. Between the devastating drop of mood he experienced yesterday through the relentless beatdown of his dreams, he decided it was time to try. Depressive thoughts wouldn’t just go away, nor would the guilt he felt over everything he had put the closest thing to friends he has through, but if anything, he wanted to be better for them. To be better  _ with _ them. 

With the message delivered, Castiel pulled himself from the confines of his bed and quickly pulled on his work clothes. He still had to go in, but luckily he had woken up with plenty of time to try to make it up to Charlie. He only hoped what he was about to do would be enough. 

Cas walked out of his room and was met with only the quiet sounds of the heater. Perfect. Charlie was still asleep. Stepping quickly, he made his way to the kitchen to scour the drawers for a pencil and paper. After striking out with a few drawers, he finally came upon a small notepad and a mechanical pencil. A hopeful grin snuck onto his face and he swiped them from their resting place. It was early, he had plenty of time. 

Back in his room, pencil and paper dutifully in hand, he closed the door behind him and returned to his bed. He sat upright, back leaning against the headboard, and brought his knees up to use as an impromptu desk of sorts. It would work well enough. 

For the first time in what felt like ages, Cas felt like writing again. Dark dreams and despair was all he had felt last week and he wanted out of that pit. The accident had happened well over a month ago now, and the previous tragedy a week before that even. Since crash landing in Lawrence, Dean and Charlie had been nothing but wonderful. He was the one with baggage, with dirty secrets and a shameful history; not them. They were good and kind and didn’t deserve what he was putting them through. 

It’s difficult to change, harder than almost anything to pull yourself out of a rut by your bootstraps and decide to do things differently. Castiel had lived his whole life in fear. Fear of death, of his Father, of his brothers and his friends, of being caught or found out or killed. Until last night, he couldn’t see how much Dean and Charlie had changed things for him. He had been riding on the thought, the heavy hopeless feeling that there was no way this was going to work for him. He had convinced himself this was temporary; that when he got on his feet he would thank them for their help and leave them be, perhaps offering extra money or something of the sort for their troubles. But he had been hurting, and now he had likely hurt the only people who were helping him, and it was unfair. Despite everything he had put them through, they were still here.

Cas remembered back to when they called him their friend, only days after meeting him. He had thought it ridiculous, that there was no way they could actually like him. Still, no matter his own apprehensions, they had cared for him. They were helping him in ways no one ever had before and they deserved better. They deserved to see him try, even if he fails. He wanted to get better. He wanted to be so far away from the shackles of his past. It would be hard, likely the hardest thing he would ever do, but it would be worth it. Castiel wanted to feel alive for the first time, whether he believed he deserved it or not.

Pencil found its way to paper, lead leaving studious lines as his hands slid over the page. At first, the words had to be dragged from his mind. It had been so long since he had written last, he was unsure he even still could, but after the first line was hastily scribbled out, it got easier; lines spilling from his fingers almost faster than he thought them. It was freeing in its own sense to think, to create, to pursue something outside of himself. 

The piece took about half an hour to write and he read over it for errors before reprinting it out on the next page of the notepad, this time mindful of his penmanship. As far as writing goes, it wasn’t the best, that was for sure, but it was meaningful and a step in the right direction. Maybe he could write another for Dean. 

Cas glanced at the clock, still thankfully hearing no sounds outside of the walls of his room, to see that he still had some time before they both would have to leave for work. There was one more thing he could do. He carefully tore the sheet from the notepad and made his way back to the kitchen to return it to its resting place in the junk drawer. The paper on which he wrote his apology in the form of creation was placed on the island delicately. There was no breeze to shift it around, but still he started prepping breakfast on the opposite counter, fearful of ruining the paper.

Eggs were beaten, spiced, and soaked up by thick slices of bread. The pan heated up nicely and after a quick spray to be sure they wouldn’t stick, soggy pieces were laid on the heat. They sizzled as they cooked, wafting lovely smells through the house. It was almost guaranteed to wake Charlie, but he supposed it would still be okay to eat out here instead of bringing it to her. A compromise could be made if necessary.

As he waited to flip each piece, he pulled out two clean plates, their forks, and toppings. Castiel had always liked syrup and powdered sugar on his, so he was hoping Charlie would as well. When the last piece was laid to rest on their plates with still no sign of Charlie, he smiled to himself and placed the stacked plate on a little tray he found hiding away in a cupboard. He left his own plate in the kitchen to return to later and he grabbed the discarded sheet of paper and placed it beside the food. Just as he started to walk out, he stopped and set the tray back down, quickly retrieving a glass and filling it with orange juice. Finally satisfied, Castiel made his way to Charlie’s room.

Outside her door, he stopped. His hands were full but he was suddenly more nervous than he had been the whole morning over this. What if she didn’t like it? What if it wasn’t enough? What if she thought he was trying to buy her forgiveness? What if-?

Thoughts were paused by the opening of the door in front of him. He just barely lifted the tray in time for her to run into his chest instead of the food. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, taking a groggy step back and hurriedly wiping the sleep from her tired eyes. “Cas! I’m sorry, I- what’s all this?” Her gaze raised to the tray balanced in his hands above her before whipping back down to meet his own with a smile. 

Cas plastered on a sheepish grin of his own. He started quickly, desperate to get out what he had to say so it would be out in the open instead of trapped in his chest. “I… I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I… I am sorry I just shut down. I realize I’ve made this so difficult on you and Dean, but… but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. This is to say I’m going to try to be better, I just-”

“Cas.” Her look softened. Cas lowered the tray and instantly she glanced it over. “You didn’t have to do all this. I know it’s been hard for you, and I do appreciate the apology- it means a lot, but this is what friends are for, you big dummy. We’re here for you no matter what, got it? But it does help if you  _ let  _ us help.” There was a weak laugh thrown in at the end, but it wasn’t because she was trying to be funny. She seemed just as nervous as he was to have this conversation.

“Yes, I should have let you...but, just- thank you, Charlie.” He paused, then, “I suppose we can just eat in the kitchen now, huh?”

Charlie let out another laugh, this one sounding much more genuine and Cas was happier to have heard it. She nodded her assent and trailed behind Cas, loaded tray in hand, back into the kitchen. He set it back down on the island where it had been before and walked around to retrieve his own plate. He tried to ignore her reading the note as he covered his own breakfast in syrup and sugar. Another ball of nerves tumbled in his stomach and he tried to take a bite before she was finished. She held the paper in her fingers and there, tilted towards him, the words he scrawled out could be seen: 

_Yesterday, always before, and today_ _  
__I tried to hide my sorrow_ _  
__You tried hard to coax it right out of me_ _  
__I hid until tomorrow_ _  
__With every breath that I scramble to breathe,_ _  
__I beg for one more to borrow_

 _And everyday that you are here with me_ _  
__I start to feel less hollow_ _  
__You’ve shown me the meaning-now I can see_ _  
__I’ve no reason to wallow_ _  
__With every hope that you’ll ever be_ _  
__I’ll stay well past tomorrow_

 _If ever I leave, not I- always we_ _  
__I’ll be reaped after I sow_ _  
__Together we’ll be, so far from the sea_ _  
__The waves formed by us will flow_ _  
__My friend, please know I’m forever sorry_ _  
__Bad apology, I know-_ _  
__Better, I promise, I’ll grow_

 _  
_ “Cas…” her voice was breathy; Cas wanted to place her tone, but it sounded too close to awe and he was sure that wasn’t it. “Cas this is- Did you write this?” She turned then to look at him, fingers still delicately holding onto the sheet.

Cas just nodded, finding no real reason to answer verbally when he wasn’t sure his voice would work properly. She looked back at the paper for a moment before placing it back down beside her food. She scooted her chair out and swiftly pulled Cas into a hug. It was a bone-crushing, breath-stealing hug and it was perfect. She held him close and he held her back. Everything was going to be okay. 

***

Cas’s work day progressed slowly. There weren’t many customers filing into the building as the weather began to chill beyond the bookstore’s walls, but it didn’t bother him much. The worst aspect of work was not being able to check his phone. He had apologized again, and this time he was going to change, but not knowing if Dean got it, if he had responded, if they could possibly be okay again, was gnawing at him. He was unfocused and distracted and endlessly thankful for Meg when she finally came to his till to send him on his break. 

“Go get some food in ya, Clarence. You look about as dead as the old lady.” she said, motioning with her head towards the closed door of Rowena’s office. 

Cas nodded, not quite understanding why she would joke about another woman’s age or why she would call him Clarence when his name was Castiel. He didn’t get it, but he didn’t have time to ask her about it, so instead he thanked her for letting him go and scurried away to the safety of the break room. It was warmer back there, the tiny room being heated by the tall space heater in the corner. Here there were no doors leading outside that could allow the cool October air to slip through. 

Once he was clocked out, he grabbed the bag that contained his sandwich and he pulled out his phone. He looked at it with apprehension, afraid to confirm or deny the presence of a response. If he didn’t look, it could both be there and not be there. All could be destroyed between them and all could be made well. Schrödinger’s forgiveness, so it seemed.

After a short minute of careful deliberation, he came to the conclusion that he was being ridiculous and opened the device before he had a chance to talk himself out of it again. The breath that had been holed up in his lungs released in one swift puff when he saw the little red (1) next to the messaging app. Good or bad, there was a message. Dean had seen what he had said, that much was certain, but now again he faced the daunting task of whether or not to look. It felt like opening a box to find another box inside; just one layer of anticipation after another. If he was going to get better, he had to accept whatever Dean had to say to him. He could do this. Yet again, Cas steeled himself and clicked on it.

**_From: My Saviour 12:24 P.M._ **

**_Hey Cas guess I could have been a little more specific yesterday but I’m good I just had something come up but it's good to hear from you. Gotta admit I was a little worried buddy but if you’re good, I’m good :)_ **

Instant relief flooded through his system and poured out through his fingertips in a hasty reply. It was okay; Dean was okay and they would be okay. Maybe he deserved another chance, maybe he didn’t, but he wasn’t going to fuck this up anymore. His past haunted him, was chained to his legs like shackles along musty dungeon walls, but that’s all it was; the past. The present could be so much better if he just let himself have it. 

Dean responded quickly, and just like that they were talking again. It was a strange thing, forgiveness, but it felt like a bright ray of sun on a snowy day and he wanted nothing more than to bask in its warmth. Cas felt another surge of need to have pencil on paper again, but he had to push it down, to wait until he was in the safety of his room to scrawl out his words. Phrases and lines, poetry unscripted danced at the edges of his brain. For what it was worth, he felt good. Surprisingly and selfishly good. 

***

Days passed and the week droned on; shifts felt unending and more boring than ever. Cas talked to Dean, he hung out with Charlie. He had good days and bad, but he tried not to pull away. There were a few moments where the familiar pull of being alone supplied hurdles, but he managed to get a word in with Charlie before shutting himself in now. If he felt the pain, the pressure on old wounds, the urgent press to hide away, he told Charlie. The few times it happened, she had smiled at him, had given him a hug and told him he could talk if he wanted. He hadn’t done much of that, but when he was alone in his room later those evenings, it was easier to get to sleep.

His dreams remained dark, illuminated every so often by the headlights of passing cars. Bruised and bloodied knees held him up just to let him fall again. But more often than not, a familiar pair of calloused hands helped him up, held him close, pressed tiny carved tokens into his palms and left him in open fields. It was enough. 

Friday came and went just as slowly as the rest of the week. It seemed like his mobile conversation with Dean never had an end and never had to start up again; they were always talking, sharing bits about their days and discussing movies and shows they wanted the other to see. Dean’s list for him was long and ever-growing, but there were apparently a few Nicolas Cage movies Dean had yet to see, so he managed to wrangle them onto the list just to turn the tables. 

When Saturday dawned, Cas was happy. He pulled himself out of bed and made breakfast before Charlie could wake. He spent hours writing, scribbling through thoughts and stanzas until he found the perfect words to reprint neatly on untouched sheets. With half the day gone, Cas left his room once more to find Charlie lounging in the living room. 

“Hey, Cas. What’ve you been up to?” she asked easily, eyes still trained on her show but ears undoubtedly listening for his response.

“I wrote more today.” he replied simply, settling into the open space on the cushion beside her. She instinctively leaned against him and he felt that sudden warmth in his chest again. 

“Really?” She turned away from the screen to meet his eyes in excitement. “Can I see?”

The poem was for Dean, like the last piece had been for Charlie. It held thoughts and feelings he wasn’t even sure he was ready for Dean to hear, but then again, maybe running it by Charlie wouldn’t be a bad idea. 

“I… I made it for Dean,” he started, “but I suppose having a proofreader might be beneficial.” he finished sheepishly. His hand reacted automatically to the flutter in his stomach and rubbed at the back of his neck. Charlie’s grin just grew. 

“I’d be honoured to be your proofreader, Cas.” 

Cas laughed, a quick rush of air to break his nerves. “I’ll uh, I’ll go get it.” 

It didn’t take long to retrieve it and soon he was back on the couch, Charlie curled up at his side with the poem held carefully in her hands. He watched as her eyes scanned across the page. He didn’t dare to breathe, didn’t dare to blink. He waited, sitting stalk still, for her verdict. Was it too much? Too vague? Too something Dean would definitely not want? 

“Cas, this is gorgeous.” she broke his stream of thoughts. “Are you giving this to him?” she asked, bringing her eyes from the paper to meet his own, curiosity flowing from her. 

“I was hoping to.” he confessed. Her face lit up again and that made a smile of his own tug at his lips. 

“Good. I think it’s perfect, Cas. And I think Dean just might die reading this, so be sure to resuscitate him afterwards.” She had a smirk in her voice but none on her lips; it was hard to read what exactly she had meant by that, but he felt it would be more dangerous to ask than to leave it be, so instead he carefully took the paper back and left to return it into the safety of his bedside drawer.

When he came back to the living room for the third time, Charlie had her eyes on her phone, typing away a message with a bright smile on her face and as he approached, she turned her head up swiftly in his direction.

“Cas! Dean says he’s open to going to the LARP tomorrow, you in?” She was beaming, excitement practically rolling off of her tongue. She looked like she was about to vibrate right out of her seat. There was no way he could say no when she looked at him like that.

“Well I don’t know what I would wear-”

“Oh I can figure that out for you! I’ve got plenty of extra stuff lying around and I’m sure we can throw something together. Now, Dean is already my Handmaiden, so we’ll have to find you a different role. Anything you’ve always wanted to be?”

Anything? In a literal whole new realm of possibilities, Castiel could be the furthest thing from himself. He could hide behind better armor, put trust in a wit not his own, protect those he cared about instead of them protecting him. 

“A knight.” 

“A knight, huh? Always room for one more knight in the realm. Plus, I know for a fact we just lost one the other day, so there’s an open position for you by my side.”

Cas smiled. He was nervous, mostly for Dean to see him like that, all armored up and beside the Queen, but also to put himself out there. In this place, he wouldn’t be Castiel, no one would know him and he would be safe. He would be with friends. And yet it was public; there would be plenty of people capable of recognizing him or having it out for him in either the real world or the fantasy one. He just hoped his new position would leave little room for personal conflicts. He could fight for someone else, for Charlie, the Queen, but it was harder to fight for himself. Despite all the reasons to be nervous, he was also excited. 

“Do I have to make up a backstory?”

Charlie’s grin widened again. “You can if you want! But, as a knight you can always stick with something generic; or I can help you come up with something if you’d like.”

He wanted a backstory, but he wasn’t used to this kind of thing yet, so he ended up letting Charlie create something for him. It was still fairly generic for a knight in the end, but Cas didn’t mind so much after hearing it come from her. The last thing they chose was his name; they settled on James after Cas had vied for Jimmy. James was far more suitable for a knight in such a time.

By the time he went to bed that night, he was more excited than he had been for anything in quite a long time. Even his usual dreams toned down their harshness in favor of different settings. Rolling hills and clashing swords took the place of blades at his back and for once, he got a good night’s sleep. 

The next morning was hectic; Charlie was rushing him around the house, prepping him with the current standing of the kingdom and any other pertinent information he should know as the up and coming new knight in the realm. She gave him tips and helped him into the proper clothes for a knight (which she fortunately had hidden away in her closet). He was so preoccupied with his state of dress that he didn’t even notice when Dean walked through the front door. 

“Good morn’, fellow nerds.” Dean spoke uncharacteristically, nearly startling Cas out of his skin. He whipped around to see him and the breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t seen Dean since he left his home two weeks ago and seeing him again was like being woken up from a long dream. Dean was normally beautiful, but  _ this  _ was something else. He was already dressed up for the day’s events and he looked astonishingly good. His shirt was this burnt orange colour that complimented the sandy tones of his hair; he wore leather bracers on his forearms and there was a small portion of chainmail resting on his shoulders. His belt looped intricately to allow space for the wooden sword that hung from it and there was satchel space on the other side. Even his shoes matched, dark leather boots that came up to his knees and complimented the look effortlessly. He looked gorgeous like this, dressed up and practically glowing and Cas suddenly wasn’t sure he would be able to survive a whole day of looking at Dean like that. 

“Good morning, Dean.” he managed to say, struggling to hold back a compliment that would undoubtedly end up sounding like a flirtation. Would a knight flirt with a handmaiden? If Cas couldn’t manage to flirt with Dean, maybe James could flirt with this handmaiden? Cas shook at the thought of it. 

“Lookin’ good, Cas. Or- wait what’s your Moondoor name?” Dean asked as he stepped closer. Hell, maybe the handmaiden would flirt with him first. 

“James- er, I suppose it would be Sir James, as I am to be a knight.” Cas stood a little straighter, trying to let the title settle over him. It did have a nice ring to it, after all. Dean’s mouth quirked up in a smile as he shuffled back the same amount of space he had just crossed and- wait, was he still breathing? Did Dean not just take all the air with him? 

“Sir James,” Dean started then, voice timbered to show he was no longer from Kansas as he bowed, “pleasure to have you on the Queen’s guard.” 

Okay, Cas was definitely not breathing. Dean stayed bowed, not looking up at him or Charlie. Their Queen was rummaging through a box, not quite paying attention to their current exchange.

“Thank you, handmaiden.” Cas wagered, his voice coming out much too hoarse for a knight. Dean stood back up then, and it clicked for him: Dean had been waiting for permission. He was a servant to the throne after all, it made sense, but Cas would be hard pressed to admit he loved that flitting blush on Dean’s cheeks as he followed orders. This could quite possibly be more difficult than Cas had previously thought. 

Before either of them could say anything else to clear the rapidly staling air, Charlie finished her rummaging and exclaimed that she had found what she was looking for. They both turned towards their Queen to see her raising another strip of chainmail much like the one resting on Dean’s shoulders, but with fully plated metal shoulders. It was the finishing touch Charlie had been looking for and Cas didn’t fight her as she struggled to slip in over his head. When the weighty piece settled on his shoulders, he couldn’t fight the smile that wrested its way onto his lips either. 

“Damn, Cas,” Charlie huffed, “knighthood sure suits you. Right, Dean?” She had moved over close enough to elbow Dean in the side, making him swallow quickly and bring his eyes up to meet Cas’s.

“Yeah, Cas. Couldn’t have chosen a better role.” The smile was weak, but Cas felt the same weakness in his own limbs, so he had no right to question Dean. 

“Well! You guys ready to go?” Charlie cut in, lacing up her own tall boots as she handed Cas another pair similar to Dean’s. At Cas’s confused glance, she informed him they were Dean’s extra pair that she kept here in case he forgot his, which he apparently did often enough to warrant the purchase of another pair. Cas slipped on this new pair of shoes and soon they were all filing out of the house and into the Impala. 

Despite their dress, they all stopped for a quick breakfast together at the diner downtown. Cas ate his way through syrupy pancakes as Charlie and Dean each devoured full breakfast platters. Once sufficiently fueled up on coffee and food, they completed their journey to the large park stationed just outside of town. 

It was huge, thick trees lining the clearing that was currently filled by a multitude of tents. There were people swarming everywhere, all dressed up in their own versions of medieval attire; some even with pointed ears or fake teeth to accentuate their looks. There was a wafting smell of food and even though they just ate, Cas was sure it wouldn’t be long before he was asking them to go investigate that heavenly smell. 

Towards the middle of the grounds lay a much larger tent, thoroughly decorated and monitored. Someone dressed much like him stood on one side of the entrance to this tent and Cas noticed the empty space on the other side. If he had to guess, that would be where he would be stationed today. 

“Good morning, my Queen!” 

“My Queen! How are you this day?”

Litanies of greetings flowed their way from passersby, voices aloft in different shades of medieval tones. Some sounded proper, indicating their apparent nobility or standing in the kingdom, and others sounded broken, poor imitations of old British that could be read as peasantry. Folks flocked over, eager to see their Queen and vaguely interested in the usual duo’s new addition. 

When they reached the opening of the large, decorated tent, Charlie turned around and cleared her throat. “My loyal subjects! Good morning!” Cheers followed her simple greeting; Cas stood a little taller by her side. “Today, we welcome a new knight into the fold. Sir James, if you would.” Charlie looked over to him and he tried desperately not to let his nerves show. He kneeled onto the patchy soil, knees immediately holding onto the dirt pressed firmly against them. Charlie had told him this would be necessary; she had warned him it would be a display, but afterwards it was likely he wouldn’t have to do much. At least, for a few weeks until the upcoming battle that was scheduled between the factions. 

Kneeled in the ground, back to the growing crowd, Cas was knighted. The surrounding flock of people stilled and quieted as Charlie’s wooden sword tapped each of his shoulders in succession. She shouted some more words about dubbing him a knight and Cas felt he could drown in the gentle hum of the crowd. He could feel their eyes on him, but it didn’t feel like scrutiny; it felt like curiosity. 

The crowd cheered once more when he was finally allowed to return to his feet. Dean stayed along the tent behind them, a soft smile rested on his lips. When Cas met his eyes, Dean gave him a curt nod and lowered his gaze. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach but he tried to remain focused. He let Charlie guide him into the tent, Dean trailing closely behind. Once safely inside the tent, the crowd began to disperse and he let himself relax some. 

“Well, what do ya think?” Charlie- the Queen- asked him. He straightened up once more.

“It is an honor to serve you, your Highness.” he said simply, reveling in the feel of confidence on his tongue. It was different, but good. He liked the way it made him feel, even if the confidence came through the mask of a character. 

Charlie grinned at his response and he heard a quiet laugh from Dean. They were both smiling. 

“If it’s just us you don’t  _ have _ to stay in character. Though I guess it would probably be better practice if you do.” Charlie shrugged, throwing herself down onto the large bed that somehow had been brought all the way to this park for just such an occasion. Cas was amazed at the effort put into this event. 

“Is it always like this?” he asked. “With all the tents? I would imagine this requires a lot of effort to set up.” Cas glanced around the fabric walls, awed by the effort and detail put in to make it seem realistic. In fact, everything he had seen so far showed just how much people put into these things. Each individual was dressed to the nines, speaking in voices to match the personas they had on display. The effort here was quite impressive. 

“Yeah, I mean, this is kind of our getaway, you know? It’s nice to go all out for something like this. It’s fun.” Charlie spoke towards the ceiling. Cas nodded his response even though she couldn’t see him. They stayed that way for a moment, quiet as the Queen lounged. 

“Well, I suppose it’s time to get to my Queen-ly duties, huh?” she groaned as she pulled herself off of the plush mattress. Cas stood tall again as she passed him by, making her way to the small map table in the corner of the tent with its detailed layout and miniature scale pawns. She studied them as Dean pulled up by her side. Though he was supposed to be a handmaiden, that apparently just meant he was allowed to stay with the Queen and help her with whatever she may need. 

Cas took his leave then as they started sifting through options over their upcoming battle. Stepping outside of the tent, he found the open space on the right and stationed himself there. He didn’t mind being alone. It was almost peaceful being a symbol of protection, silent and stoic, generally unapproachable. People passed him by, whispers spoken under their breath as hands guarded their mouths. He didn’t mind the chatter much either. 

Most of the day passed that way, with Cas standing guard, following Charlie and Dean when they ventured out of the tent. It was far more fun than one would think it to be. They walked together through the woods as Charlie pointed things out to him. She showed him where the faction lines lie, where he should never go lest he get ambushed by shadow orcs. She took them to join the festivities, small dance parties with various old instruments providing the perfect accompaniment to the crowd’s movements. 

They ate their lunch together at the pavilion that harbored the origins of those delicious smells Cas had noticed when they arrived. They conversed with each other and with those around them to an extent. Everyone was in such a good mood here that any semblance of the ache in his bones was able to be pushed far from the forefront of his mind. It was easier to exist here, as James, a knight bound by duty to protect his Queen. 

Cas, in the brief moments he actually spoke to Dean, attempted to remain in character, fueled by a false sense of confidence as he talked. Their conversations were easy and Cas was astounded with himself for being able to keep the pride in his voice despite his nerves. They stole quick glances at each other, shared more than a few held moments of eye contact, most of which were littered by the soft brush of pink on their cheeks. Even as the world happened around them, it was like it was all created just for the two of them. A world all their own. 

The day passed far quicker than Cas would have liked, and before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set and everyone around them started packing up what they could. Easy to disassemble tents were broken down and hauled away, food stalls were hitched up and removed, left behind pieces of broken costumes were cleaned up and tossed away. Dean, Charlie, and Cas cleared out with them.

Back in the car, which took a brief and oddly tiring walk to get return to, they flopped into their seats. Cas’s limbs felt heavy, having been weighed down slightly by the pieces of armor adorning his chest. His legs ached from standing for so long and his spine creaked from the conscious effort to retain his posture. Back against the chilled leather, he relaxed into his seat. Charlie had let him take the front as she had claimed shotgun on the ride over. He leaned his head back against the headrest and let a soft smile rest on his lips.

“I take it you had fun today?” Came the honey voice from the driver’s seat as Baby roared to life under Dean’s fingertips. Dean was grinning too and Cas felt a pleasant warmth spread through his chest. 

“I did. It was… nice to be someone else for a change.” he admitted. “Though I do think I appreciate being me just a little bit more now.”

Truthfully, he had quite enjoyed being this knight. He channeled things, qualities that he had never possessed to play him, and yet, having had a taste of being someone else, Cas was surprised by the fact that he didn’t mind just being  _ Cas _ . If he really wanted it, James’ confidence could be his own. Cas could say what he wanted to; he could have courage. Yet, he was content keeping to himself, to his small group of friends. He was starting to be happy in just being Cas. 

“Good.” Dean said softly, bringing his hand over to give Cas a pat just above his knee. Cas all but melted into the touch, restraining himself from placing his own hand to rest on Dean’s. It only lingered there for a moment, but that had been enough; whatever Dean was willing to give him would be enough. 

The ride home was filled with laughter and good music. Castiel reveled in Dean’s sweet whiskey voice as he sang along to the old rock songs that blared from the speakers. He even managed to hum along to the few that he remembered hearing from previous car rides with Dean. 

Home was quieter than the park, but even as they all filed inside, Dean included, it was almost as if their energy renewed.

“Still down for a movie? It’s not that late.” Dean inquired as he stretched, revealing just a strip of his stomach that Castiel was helpless to tear his eyes away from. It was almost blasphemous the thoughts he had had about this man all day. 

“Yeah, we can order something. Anything sound good?” Charlie asked, carefully beginning to remove her layers. Dean followed suit, peeling off the chainmail and the bracers on his arms before removing the lovely orange top; leaving him in just the white undershirt and pants. Cas swallowed hard. 

“Anything is fine with me. Is it alright if I hop in the shower while we’re waiting?” Cas’s voice felt ragged coming from his throat, though somehow, he sounded fine. He thanked the Heavens for that. 

“Go for it, Cas. Oh, but how about Chinese food?” she asked, sounding hopeful. Both he and Dean agreed to Charlie’s dinner of choice and after leaving what he wanted, he took his leave to seek refuge under the cold stream of the shower. He had to will away these thoughts of Dean. 

The water beat against him steadily, sending shivers through his body as he soaped himself up. He ran his hands over his new scars, the raised one above his brow and the much longer one that laid across his chest. Though they were scars just like the ones on his back, they didn’t hold the same visceral pain, the same gutting ache. They almost signified the cutting of ties, the extraction of his old self from the new. He found he didn’t mind these ones as much. 

The shower didn’t last long, with the water almost icy, and any thoughts he had about properly relieving himself of those visions of Dean were washed down the drain with the rinsed out shampoo. When he returned to the living room, Dean and Charlie were positioned in their usual, cozy spaces on the couches. Cas’s spot was wide open next to Dean. 

“You look better.” Dean said, patting the spot next to him for Cas to sit down. It didn’t take any more convincing than that. Cas sat down next to Dean, mere inches between them as conversations carried on. They talked about the day, about how much better the tents were drawn up this time and how delicious the food had been. They talked about what movie they would watch; they decided to let Cas pick for once, so the chosen movie ended up being Con Air, much to Dean’s lighthearted dismay. 

The food came and they divvied it up, splitting up portions and separating the large cup of sauce between the three of them. Cas settled in next to Dean, sides pressed together with neither of them breathing a word about it. The movie played on, this time with Cas quoting some of his favourite lines, much to their surprise. 

By the time the food was devoured, Cas was leaning just a little heavier on Dean’s side. Dean’s arm was over the back of the couch, not quite on Cas’s shoulder, but near enough that the closeness was clearly welcomed. He stayed close, choosing not to say anything and avoiding glances in Charlie’s direction. 

Before he knew it, the movie was over. As the credits rolled and the dark moonlit night beckoned them all to turn in, Cas felt content. He pushed himself upright, away from the warmth of Dean’s side to allow the other to get up. Dean got the message and stood, stretching out constricted limbs.

“I was thinking my place again next time?” Dean asked, eyes trained intently on Cas’s. 

“Fine with me.” Charlie chimed in, pulling herself up from the couch as well. Cas wasn’t distracted by Charlie’s movements. Dean was holding his gaze, practically pleading with just his eyes. Cas would be powerless against it even if he wanted to decline.

“That sounds great.” he managed. Almost as soon as his answer was out of his mouth and into the open air between them, Dean lit up. His deep green eyes flashed and his lips pulled back into a bright smile. The sight alone made Cas feel like he could fly; not for the first time he wondered what it would feel like to taste that smile. 

“Good. I’ll get everything set up and we can keep on with Indy.” 

Cas was smiling now too; Dean’s happiness was infectious. It seeped into him from across the room. It was like a balm for the soul. They went through their normal round of goodbye hugs, Cas holding on just a tiny bit longer; he had missed the feel of him more than he would care to admit. Dean slipped out the door to the sounds of goodbyes and Cas felt the emptiness of the house the second he was gone.

Charlie patted him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his longing stare directed at the door. Instead of being sad Dean was gone, he decided to try something new. Cas thought about the next time, about going back to Dean’s house, about talking to him throughout the week, about sharing things with him. He let himself be excited for next time. It was time to start looking forward. 

Cas helped clean up, gathering discarded boxes for the waste bin and sealing up the containers that still had food in them. Once everything was put away, they bid each other goodnight and slipped away into their separate rooms.

The bed was warm, pillows tucked close under his chin. As he closed his eyes to sleep, he wondered if maybe someday, just maybe, he would get to fall asleep against the warmth of Dean. He wondered how it would feel to hold Dean against him, to wrap his arms around his waist and press his lips against his neck. He wanted so bad, but for now, what they had was more than enough. Sleep took him with thoughts of comfort and that night, not a single nightmare plagued his dreams. 

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, and depictions of injuries from abuse.  
> Please don't read if these are triggering for you! The last thing I want is to harm my readers, so please read with caution! <3


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